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#this game out here bringing us sentences like
adorablebanite · 2 days
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Were your Durge/Tavs inspired by characters from other movies/shows/literature?
Lilla's neither; she's more of a "side character," but here are her biggest inspirations!
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Judge Anderson (DREDD): Lilla is a Knowledge domain cleric - supported by her Patron Bane (introduced by Gortash, of course). Anderson can read minds, and Knowledge clerics have the same ability, as well as other Banite-adjacent abilities like Command, and Dominate Person. She's obviously going to be different than the other Banite cleric NPC's in game, as her job is to specifically protect Gortash (she protecc but also attacc).
I wanted her to be bookish, prim(in public👀), and an over achiever - essentially a prime example of professionalism, as the boss is trying to be a politician 😈
I really like Judge Anderson's innocent competence, so I wanted to keep that Lilla's front-facing demeanor; even when her arc does stray away from the good moral alignment after being hired on by Gort - in which her moral alignment clearly gets influenced by him, but she realizes later it's literally just in her blood to be a Banite!
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Lee (Secretary) -I love the innocent-to-confident character arc, (as you can probably see by the Judge Anderson arc as well,) but let's be real, Lilla was originally created for a smut so I could waggle my brainworms, and the Secretary holds a special place in my heart.
The movie greatly inspired Awaiting Further Instruction, and I really enjoyed having Lilla go through an adventure of finding her nature, with the help of Gortash, of course. You've got the pathetic Dom, and the pathetic Sub, and while they're both actually pathetic, they find a security in each other's world that even though it's unconventional and twisted, it brings them comfort.
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GoGo (Kill Bill): obviously vastly different from Anderson, so you can kind of see how the arc goes - and while I don't make Lilla nearly as sadistic as GoGo, she still does have a little streak of it when it comes to anyone who is threatening, insulting, or impeding Gortash in whatever way.
Lilla's demeanor can quickly switch from prim/professional/sweet, to taking personal pleasure in dispatching a rival for Gortash, depending on the level of the crime. Like him, she has a personal perception of justice that greatly aligns with his, and if she has been sicced on someone who has wronged him, she will sentence them accordingly. This can range from playful banter/underhanded threats and blackmail, to abruptly decapitating a goblin mid-sentence because he said something uncouth about Gortash.
My vision for her was the "loyal sidekick of the mob boss," and I find it extremely fun giving her a more interesting role than "yes master, no master," specifically for smut purposes.
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Scleritas Fel (BG3) : LOL Yes, my initial idea was: "Why can't Gortash have a little minion like Scleritas Fel?" And here we are 😅🫣
I didn't want to rip off the concept of Scleritas directly, but Lilla is still intrinsically tied to Bane because he made her - not like Bhaal made Durge - but more of a "secret, experimental ritual commissioned by Bane, conducted in the outskirts of Calimport where some Banites conceived a person designed to seek out and serve his Chosen, but she ended up being too loveable and the Banites couldn't stand treating her like Banites should, so they wiped her memory, sent her to an orphanage, and offed themselves in shame," kind of way.
Obviously Bane was also ashamed by his botched experiment, so they have a shaky relationship, but that's all been settled in the fic 😇
Ultimately I wanted to write something fun for Gortash - and give him something nice! Lilla is very nice, and likes him very much (bordering on obsession), and is actually very useful in many ways beyond smutty silliness! She does a lot of research, spies, transcribes, organises dossiers/blackmail material, and pretty much oversees his political campaign and businesses (legal and otherwise) while he does the big-boy-chosen work.
I'll do one about Destri (Durge) soon too 🥰
Now that I've prattled on, I'd love to hear about other people's inspiration for their OCs, if they have them!!
@melvinthedepressedrobot
@kaava
@obuoliukai
@walkerdraws
@ennissg
@beecreeper
@newtia
@sankttealeaf
(I have to rush now but I want to hear about everyone so please tag me if you end up doing this and you're not already tagged so I can see it!! 🙏🙏🙏)
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romantichore · 8 months
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ah but palworld this ripoff that
listen I'm just sitting here laughing my fucking ass off because they chose the worst name for the damn things calling them pals and the game has a brazilian portuguese translation and it is just. hilarious and i can guarantee the team translating it could not take it seriously for even a moment (this is great news)
bless them, being able to unleash your fifth grade spirit and make money is the dream
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celestiamour · 26 days
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ pretty tipsy ]❜
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ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ he brings you home after a night out drinking┊2.5k words
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: alcohol & intoxication, this man is WHIPPED, age & size difference, emotional drunk human reader, ooc? calling him kitty
➤ author's note: idk what this is but it’s my longest logan piece yet because i have yet to write any more than a thousand words for him
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tonight was one of the few nights logan could finally have some alone time. wade was going out for drinks with vanessa with the plan to stay over at her place, the ever so mysterious blind al was off doing her own thing, and mary puppins was resting peacefully in her little bed, tuckered out after a long day of playtime. he could finally get some long-awaited peace and quiet, a moment to himself to relax and breathe. while he’s grateful for the presence of others since he arrived in this dimension, he’s still a lone wolf at heart who treasures his privacy above all else.
humming a little tune from the eighties, he sunk into the beat-up leather couch with a beer in one hand and a lit cigar in the other, taking a long drag on it and preparing himself for a relaxing evening until his flip phone started ringing. when he opened it up to read the “wade wilson” contact name staring back at him, he rolled his eyes with a groan before answering.
“what the fuck do you want?”
“not even a ‘hello?’ damn bitch, okay then— well, we ran into some friends and had some drinks together, but one of them is pretty shit-faced right now and her phone is dead, could you pretty please with sugar on top come and pick her up?”
“the fuck? that’s not my problem, just call her an uber—” he stopped mid-sentence when he heard a familiar giggle in the background, one asking a different partygoer to have another drink with her, “is that the neighbor who lives at the end of the hallway?”
“yeah, it’s your little crush~! you recognize her from just her voice over the phone, oh my god, you have it bad wolfie!! well, if you don’t wanna come, then fine, whatever, but you know, it’s not unsafe for a pretty lady to be alone this late at night! some guy might just swoop her up, actually, there’s some guy asking for her number right now—”
“alright, alright, i’m coming! send me the address.” he nearly shouted into the receiver, putting out his cigar on the ashtray atop the coffee table and slipping on his jacket to leave the comfort of his shared apartment.
the night was chilly in comparison to the cozy warmth of the indoors and the bar was filled with loud chattering and cheers, the clinking of glasses, yelling at the game being televised, and the general buzz of extroverted fun on a weekend night. 
“ayyy, there he is! come here, peanut, sit, sit, sit, have a drink with us!”
logan hesitated, not because he would ever shy away from free booze but because he was here on a mission with one sole goal in mind (and because he wasn’t familiar with this particular group of people, he didn’t feel like socializing tonight) “no, it’s fine, i’m just here to take her home.” his voice was uncharacteristically mellow, finding you napping on the table with your arms folded to be a makeshift cushion for your head. 
you peeked at the man coming up next to you and your face changed from exhausted to ecstatic to upset in the span of a few seconds, “looggann!! how are you doing, i feel like i haven’t seen you in foreverr— how come every time i see you in the hall, you always run off, are you avoiding me? did i do something wrong?” you cling onto his hand and shake his arm, paying no attention to your friends giggling at your behavior in the background, pouting and tearing up. 
oh god, you’re an emotional drunk, that’s so cute. neither he nor wade could get drunk at all on account of their systems constantly cleaning out the effects of the alcohol as soon as it’s consumed, but when he drinks around others, it’s a trait he typically finds so annoying quickly becoming so endearing when worn by you.
“i’m not avoiding you, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he consoled in the most gentle voice a wolverine could muster, also cringing at the fact that he wasn’t half as discreet as he thought he was. it’s true, he has been avoiding you, but only because he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel, smoothing out the rough edges of his personality and making him feel stupid butterflies he was far too old to be feeling, not to mention the nonstop teasing from everyone else when they noticed the way he seemed to look at you from afar. it was as if he was a child who thought hiding from it would make it go away, but it has become apparent it has only grown stronger.
“you’re telling the truth?” you sniffled.
“yes, i am. come on, bub, let’s get you outta here. i’m here to take you home.”
you didn’t protest or try to convince him you weren’t wasted, knowing your limit had been reached, and slowly picked up your things to follow him out of the building. he allowed you to intertwine your arm with his, providing support to your unbalanced mind and stumbling legs since you couldn’t even walk straight.
“why would you drink so much if you’re such a lightweight?”
“how do you know i’m a lightweight? you weren’t there, i could have drunk an entire bathtub full of booze before you showed up!” 
“nah, i can smell it, there’s no way you drank anything more than a few pints.”
“oh, so the kitty is a dog now? i thought you were more cat-like this whole time, but i guess i was wrong.” 
“what?” they say what a person says when intoxicated comes from their soul and true thoughts with little to no filter, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating those words to come out of your mouth.
“you look like a kitty, you know? with the way your hair does the little swoopy things— do you wake up like that or do you need to style it? you act like one too, grumpy ass kitty.”
“don’t call me that, kid, i hear it enough from wade already.”
“i’ll stop calling you kitty when you stop calling me kid! i know you’re old as hell, but i’m a grown-ass adult!”
“yeah? well, you’re certainly not acting like one right now.”
you were silent for a minute, making him worry for a second that he offended you by calling you childish, but when he looked back down at you, you were simply staring in astonishment. “i’ve never seen you smile before! you look a lot more handsome, you should do it more often!”
was he smiling? he didn’t even notice, grinning ear to ear and revealing his pearly white teeth, chuckling at your ridiculous words. was this really the first time you saw him smile and heard him laugh? no wonder you assumed he was avoiding you, he was surprised you didn’t hate him just because of a misunderstanding.
it took some time to get you up all of the stairs to your floor without tripping, and logan was almost sad the night was over so quickly. even if the conversation was mostly one-sided and you were intoxicated with slurred words, he swears he listened to all you had to say between comedic bits, insightful knowledge, random bullshit, and found it all fascinating. luckily for him, his time with you wasn’t up yet as he watched you fumble with your purse and frown.
“oh, fuck… i lost my keys… oh no…” you slumped against the wall until you fell to the floor, feeling yourself starting to cry at this inconvenience with heightened emotions. 
“god, please don’t, not again…” he’s the absolute worst at comforting others, it isn’t his strong suit, and acknowledging this weakness seemed ten times more difficult when you were the one in need. “come on, you can sleep at my place for the night and charge your phone.”
“...really?”
“yes, come on.” 
you took his outreached hand and found yourself in his grasp again as he held onto your shoulder to steady you, unlocking the door and leading you into his shared apartment. he felt somewhat grateful that you were too drunk to notice how messy the site was, seating you on the couch as he got you a glass of water to sober up. you looked so out of place among it all, so young and feminine with your vibrant club clothing around all of the aging, scratched-up furniture and muted colors.
“thank you,” you murmur, downing the entire tall glass with a few gulps, “uh, where is the bathroom?” he directed you to where it was and allowed you to use it, quickly hearing you turn on the shower after a minute and just as quickly hearing you swearing in regret over the loud pitter-patter of the steaming hot water. “i’m never drinking again, why am i being so fucking stupid?!” 
“are you okay?” 
“yeah, except for the fact i forgot that i don’t have a change of clothes and i stepped into the shower with my current ones on because i forgot to take them off!” your voice cracked, feeling yourself starting to cry once again from yet another inconvenience. you were really just embarrassing yourself and couldn’t wait for this shitty day to be over.
he let out a sigh of relief, “god, don’t scare me like that— i’ll get you something, hold on, please don’t cry.” he could have stolen some of al’s clothing since she wouldn’t have noticed, or he could have stolen some of the clothes vanessa left behind after spending time with wade, but for some odd reason, he pulled out one of his canadian hockey jerseys for you. the fabric was soft and worn with time, smelling slightly of him and laundry detergent, and arguably the most comfortable thing he had at his disposal. “i’ll leave it outside the door, okay?”
“thank youu!!” (and thank god your underwear is still clean and dry enough to wear again, you have no idea what you would have done if you didn’t realize your mistake soon enough and stood under the water for long enough to be soaked to the bone.)
logan allowed his fatigued body to rest for a moment, sinking into the couch just as he did an hour ago in hopes of relaxation. what the fuck was he doing? since when did the wolverine play babysitter for drunk young women, walking them back to play guard dog against possible creepy men, letting them into his home, and lending them his clothing to wear? this was so uncharacteristic of him, he couldn’t think of a single person he was willing to do this for other than laura, but you certainly weren’t nearly as close to him as he was to her! lord, he’s so pathetic, he thinks he probably would have carried you back bridal style too if you asked him.
the water stopped and he waited for you to exit so that he could show you where you could sleep, but he could now see he didn’t need to. your apartment layouts are nearly identical, and it looks like your brain was switched onto autopilot after cleaning up, mindlessly strolling into his bedroom and plopping down on his mattress as if it were your own. (his shirt was practically a dress on you, falling to your mid-thigh and ill-fitted on your smaller frame, his eyes lingering on it for a second longer than what would have been polite.)
he leaned against the doorframe, watching you make yourself comfortable and preparing to stay there until the early afternoon with a banging headache. “are you comfortable? do you need anything else?”
you murmured something in response and stretched out your arms, making grabby hands and inviting him to join you, “come cuddle with me! herree, kitty, kitty, kitty~”
are you really calling a fifty-something-year-old, six-foot-tall killer mutant with adamantium bones and razor-sharp claws that come out of his knuckles ‘kitty’? yes, yes you are, and you’re going to scream into your pillow from embarrassment when you recall it the next day.
“i don’t do cuddles, princess,” he chuckled even though he intended to scoff. “and i already told you to quit calling me that.”
“pleaseee? pretty pleasee?” you chirped, eyes going big and round just like a puppy in a cartoon, begging him to humor you in this request.
are you truly a human, or are you secretly a mutant who has hypnotic powers? the answer is obvious, he’s just an old loser who apparently answers at your every beck and call now because all he could do is sigh, slip off his jacket, and get under the blanket with you. 
you rolled on your side and wrapped your arm around his body, nuzzling your face into his comforting touch and inhaling the mild scent of pine and tobacco. humming a satisfied “good night” and dozing off within a few minutes, you clung to him as tightly as a koala onto a branch, and he couldn’t separate himself from you without making you stir and whine. 
trapped in the embrace of a beautiful neighbor whom he possessed a soft spot for, wearing his clothing and laying in his bed, he would be trapped like this until morning it sounds like a dream to most men, but to logan, it’s the fear of getting attached and losing someone else important to him rearing its ugly head to the forefront of his mind. it scares him to think what could happen if he allowed himself this pleasure of becoming close to you, and yet when he admires your slumbering face, he feels like it would be okay and work itself out in the end somehow.
he fell asleep more quickly than usual when you held him, and for the first time in forever, he wasn’t tormented with horrid nightmares of the past that always plagued him before now. when he woke up, his weary soul was well-rested and energized, almost as if he was twenty years younger again. the wonders of a good night’s sleep, or perhaps, the wonders of being with you. 
it felt so… natural to wake up with you next to him.
you were practically a dead weight by now, not rousing in the least when he slowly got up to leave the bed. he did feel a little back about undoing the grasp you had on him though, felt a bit like abandoning you in a vulnerable state. he sauntered into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee as per his routine, only to find the most annoyingly loveable scarred face sitting in a chair waiting for him, legs crossed and hands in his lap like a supervillain. 
“sooooo, how was your night, you smitten kitten? you dirty dog!” there was a stupid smirk on his face, trying his best to hold back a fit of giggles. he knows nothing suggestive happened and was just teasing, but he still wanted to hear him say that it was a wonderful night nonetheless and to thank him for playing matchmaker.
“shut the fuck up before i stab you again. don’t ruin this morning for me.”
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salemoleander · 11 months
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I am BARELY resisting going full red-strings-corkboard on this season. And by barely resisting I mean not resisting at all here is an extremely long list of the events those pins would be marking out.
BigB getting a Task that was a different color than everyone else's. It's not just a randomly assigned Hard Task, bc Scar rerolled for a Hard Task and his was also just a white envelope. It's fundamentally different.
That task taking BigB away from socialization, and seemingly being an incredibly time-consuming and dull request. Of profound disinterest to any watchers.
The phrasing of his Task!!
Dig a big hole. All the way down. At least 3x3. Make it your base if you want.
Everyone else's are direct and formal - the only one with more than one sentence was Skizz's, with the rule clarification of "One attempt only." Bigb's Task is four short abrupt sentences. It is also the only Task to contain extraneous information, 'Make it your base if you want.' The requirements (at least 3x3) feel like an afterthought to mimic the numerical/specific demands of the other tasks.
Evo symbol on the face of the Secret Keeper statue.
The fact that there's a statue at all; the fact that there is a physical representation of what is assigning tasks that everyone must complete, when previously everything was always handled via commands and unseen RNG.
Grian talking to the statue, and (bc of his Actual Role as game organizer) acting as a mediator for the impartial decisions handed down, speaking for it.
Grian making one last bad joke and saying he doesn't know if it counted or not- depends on whether we the audience laughed.
Grian asking for task recommendations from the audience. The watchers are making the tasks. The Watchers are making the tasks.
Again I could be off-base, and I'm not usually even that smitten with bringing in Evo lore. I don't want a Big Bad really...but. It feels like something very unusual and intentional and cool is happening in this series. And I'd guess we'll know if theres something going on once we have more than one data point.
My largely unfounded suspicion is that there is another being (maybe Listeners, maybe something else) trying to reach out to the Players via decoy Tasks, and BigB was the first recipient. Get them alone, make them of disinterest to the watchers, and tell them something we don't get to know.
Because that's the really, really fucking cool part (if my wacky theory is remotely right): We're the bad guys. We're the ones giving out tasks - hell, we're the ones actively brainstorming harder and crueller tasks in Grian's comments!
If they actually made a story where the Players have to keep secrets from us I will be delighted. Bc that is the same genius bullshit that made Evo Watcher lore so fun
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maxlarens · 3 months
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53) holding the other’s jaw + logan
this is to make up for what i wrote last night viv hope u like ittt 😋🫢😌 @coff33andb00ks
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You meet Logan “oh, I drive race cars” Sargeant in a dive bar in Austin, Texas and you don’t know if you have the heart to tell him that you’re in Austin specifically for the Grand Prix.
It’s cute that he assumes you don’t recognise him, it’s even cuter that he tells you he drives race cars and then assumes you still don’t know he’s an F1 driver. It’s a little sad maybe— especially when Oscar Piastri and Jack Doohan are sitting in a booth across the room, trying and failing to take surreptitious glances at the two of you. But you’re trying not to think about that, probably as much as Logan also is right now.
You’re leaning with your back up against the bar drinking a vodka whatever, he’s standing in front of you. Ostensibly in line to get a drink, but he hasn’t stopped talking to you since you almost bowled him over trying to get back to your friends. There’s no drink in his hand that’s for sure, just an empty beer glass that he’s bringing back. You think that’s unbearably sweet— well, no, actually you think that’s hot.
You’re not the kind of person who’s into Formula One for the drivers. You’re into it because instead of watching football games like every other all-American family did, your dad used to sit in front of the TV every weekend to watch twenty men drive around a track. You’d grown up on the sport; the roar of the cars before they hybridised them, old-school turn names, fiery crashes ending in tragedy, the blood sweat and tears of teammate rivalry. Your dad complains that the sport has changed too much— but still he puts the races on every weekend.
You try to watch the sport for the cars, for the racing, but at the end of the day, you’re not immune to a cute guy. You follow most of them on Instagram (except the drivers you hate), find yourself smiling at promo videos and liking pictures that have nothing to do with the sport. Your dad is annoying about it, but you don’t care.
You especially don’t care when Logan Sargeant is smiling something crooked at you as he tells you he’s here with his friends. You nod, looking where he’s pointing, where you’ve already seen Oscar Piastri and Jack Doohan, you laugh a little, giggle really, and you lean toward him.
Deliberately.
“Yeah,” you take a sip through your straw, maintaining eye contact, “I know who you are, Logan.”
He goes red immediately. Pale cheeks turning a very pleasant colour. You lick your lips, lean back against the bar. He blinks his sparkling wet eyes at you, mouth gaping like a fish out of water for a moment before he snaps it shut and scrubs a hand across his stubbly beard.
“Oh— I—”
You wave his shock off, barrelling on to avoid anything awkward for him, “Sorry, should’ve told you.”
“No,” he shakes his head, apparently desperate to make it fine, to make it okay, “You’re good. I just— I didn’t expect someone so—”
He trails off, trying to start the sentence again. But you’re intrigued, very intrigued.
You cut him off, not rude, just insistent, leaning forward into his space, “What was that? Finish your sentence.”
His eyebrows go up in a flash. The blush on his cheeks grows a little more prominent. He’s biting down a little on a smile, on something.
“I—”, he flounders for words for a minute, you give him that minute in silence but you’re staring at him, a little fiery, a little intense, “I didn’t expect someone so,” he stops, whines something a little desperate, quiet enough that you’re not supposed to hear it, “cute, I guess. To know who I was.”
“You guess?”
He nods, slowly. Getting braver as he leans past you, deliberately getting in your space to put his empty glass on the bar behind you. You’re trying not to smile, you’re biting down on the inside of your lip so the biggest grin you’ve probably ever grinned can’t split across your face.
“Yeah, I guess.”
This is how you end up in a dark corner booth with Logan “oh, I drive race cars” Sargeant. This is how you end up making out with Formula One driver Logan Sargeant. You’re halfway in his lap, your legs a weird tangle as you try to fit yourselves into the space. But you’re hardly thinking about his knee digging into you or how you’re slipping off the seat every five seconds because Logan’s got a hand buried deep in your hair and another on your waist. His hand splayed against your back, a few fingers touching the bare skin at your hip.
He tastes like beer and ketchup and he kisses you like he’s starving. It’s slow, it’s deliberate but the slip of tongue and the way your mouths slide against each other is intoxicating. Makes your head feel fuzzy.
You’ve got a hand on the side of his jaw, the crook of your thumb hooked on his ear, fingertips pressing into his neck, the base of his skull. He tries to pull away from you— ostensibly to breathe, to say something. But you’re a little desperate, chasing his mouth and bringing your other hand up to his jaw to drag him back.
You feel him laugh a little into your mouth.
“What?”, you mutter, eyes closed, still kissing him, "Finish your sentence."
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, you feel his mouth move against yours as he speaks, hot breath fanning across your jaw, “Just. Do you maybe wanna get out of here?”
And this is how you end up in Formula One driver Logan Sargeant’s hotel room.
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this is probably the most bordering on nsfw content that i will venture to in my writing just a heads up for people:)
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yxxdel · 1 month
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𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐓 FT. SAE ITOSHI 𖦹°‧ ** you can’t bear physical contact during summer, it’s just too hot. your boyfriend think otherwise.
W/C : 1.3k
C/W : none, pure fluff, reader is feeling insecure (?)
A/N : first fluffy post hihi
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𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 a lot of things.
He hated weak and annoying people; he hated when his body was too exhausted to train; and he hated when someone raised their voice at him.
But one of the things he hated the most, was the summer. The air was too hot to even breathe, his clothes stuck to his body due to sweat, he couldn’t train properly and the list went on..
But if he hated summer so much, it was for one particular reason.
Sae preferred the cold weather, not only because it matched his personality but also because he could be near you all the time.
Your cute eyes looking up at him and asking him to warm your hands— he loved that. He loved wrapping his arms around you and kissing your red nose.
So yes, Sae hated summer just because he couldn’t be close to you.
Every time he tried to hold you, you gently pushed him away, saying that you were too hot.
So here he was, sulking like a baby on the couch as he was watching one of his previous games.
Yet he couldn’t concentrate; his mind was always drawn to you.
He let out a sigh as he leaned back against the sofa, closing his eyes. Sae didn’t consider himself clingy, but when you refused to kiss or hug him ?
Damn, he was like a child.
Hearing your footsteps, his body immediately rose as he saw you walking toward the kitchen, in underwear.
Well, him too, he was shirtless and in short, and was slowly melting because of the weather .
He titled his head to the side slightly, his teal gaze admiring your curves.
He called your name in a small whine, walking behind you as you put your empty glass on the counter, smiling.
“What is it, baby?”
You noticed his pout, something unusual.
But when he tried to wrap his arms around you, you put your hand on his chest and gently got away from his embrace.
“See? You don’t love me anymore.”
Sae crossed his arms as his tone was cold, like always, but still soft in a way he only used for you.
You giggled as you shook your head, grinning because you found him so cute.
“I love you, Sae. It’s just that I can’t bear the heat of your body right now. I know you want to cuddle, and I’m sorry.”
He only scoffed, grabbing your wrist to bring you closer. He rested his chin on your bare shoulder, his arms wrapping tightly around you.
“You can take it, it’s not like you’re gonna die.”
He mumbled, not even caring if his body was starting to get hot too.
He wanted your touch, so he will get your touch. Winter, autumn, spring, and summer.
Your cheeks started to become red, both from the sentence he used and the sudden wave of heat running through your body.
You smiled, grabbing his shoulders.
“Sae, baby, I’m serious. Plus we’re both sweating, I mustn't smell good. “
The midfielder only pulled you closer when you tried to push him away again, shaking his head.
“No, you don’t smell bad.”
For him, you always smelled like a delicate flower. Like tulip. He didn’t even know why, since you didn’t own any perfume with this scent.
Maybe it was something psychological for him.
You couldn’t help but smile, finding it adorable how needy he was for your touch. Caressing his scalp, you sighed.
“Alright, let’s take a shower together, alright ? So you can hug me without the risk of me fainting.”
He immediately raised his head from your neck, his eyes narrowing.
Oh, Sae liked that idea.
“Ok.”
He then took a step back, leaving you with the space you needed.
You inhaled deeply, showing him a sweet smile. You noticed his eyes running down your body, and you felt yourself blushing again.
“Can I kiss you now ? Or in the shower ?”
His question surprised you, and you chuckled.
“You can do both, but wait to be under the cold water to actually kiss me.”
He immediately stepped closer the moment you agreed, but his face stopped inches away from yours at your last words.
With a frown, he asked you:
“What do you mean ‘actually kiss you’ ?”
Your fingertips trailed from his collarbone down to his chest, like a feather, and it made him shiver.
“Well, you know. Kisses with you always end up with your body on top of mine, so I can only give you a peck right now.”
You could laugh at how random the conversation ended up, but you loved it. He crossed his arms, his stoic expression staring down at you.
“Then from now on, I will hate your peck.”
You laughed, clearly amused about how much he looked like a child behaving like this.
“Is that so ? So I’m not going to give you my small kisses before you go training, or when I leave the house ?”
Sae stayed silent for a moment, evaluating the situation with his tongue pocking his cheek.
He then simply leaned in, turning his face slightly so you were facing his cheek.
“I changed my mind. I want the small kiss now, and the big kiss for under the shower.”
Shaking your head, you leaned in and met his skin with your soft lips. Stepping back, you bit your lips as you saw his ear became the same color as his hair.
“Let’s go then, a cold and long shower awaits us.”
He grabbed your wrist as you walked toward the bathroom, following you like a puppy with a small smile tucking his lips.
Inside the bathroom, you were now curiously more shy.
It wasn’t the first time you and Sae took a shower together, but each time it still made you nervous.
What if he didn’t like your body ? What if he saw you the way you saw yourself ?
Those questions ran through your mind all the time.
Oh, but foolish you were for thinking that.
Sae adored your body; he worshiped every single inch of it. Either it was your chest, stomach, thighs, or ass, he wanted to kiss it all the time.
Yes, he loved your body, but that wasn’t what he loved the most. Because, above all, he loved you.
Sensing something wrong, Sae held your hands in his, his lips flying above your skin.
In a heavy silence, he left a trail of soft kisses from your knuckles to your shoulder. Without breaking eye contact, he gently grabbed the strap of your bra and pulled it down slowly.
When both of you were naked, he held your chin.
“Look at me, love.”
And you did because, of course, you trusted him.
In the shower, he cleaned your back and you did his.
The cold water soothed both of you during the hot summer.
His pink hair stuck to his forehead because of the water, making him even more attractive.
“And now, do I get my kiss ?”
He said it teasingly as he gently pushed your back against the shower wall, his finger putting away the hair in front of your eyes.
Closing your eyes, you kissed him. He let out a faint groan as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring your body.
Well, he missed you—it has been only two days—but he still missed your body. Like the touch-deprived person that he was.
Further in the day, after the shower healed you from the heat of your apartment, you were both lying in bed.
You randomly remembered that you bought a big ventilator; Sae almost killed you for that.
You turned it on in the bedroom so your needy boyfriend could finally cuddle with you.
So here you were, his arms wrapped around you and his face on your chest, sleeping like a baby.
So no, you weren’t on the ‘what Sae Itoshi hates’ list, but on the contrary, you were on the ‘rare things Sae Itoshi likes’.
And you were at the top of that list.
© yxxdel 2024 — all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or redistribute my work without permission.
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simpjaes · 1 year
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SUMMARY: men are liars. especially, jake sim, some guy you met once at a party and now only know through text messages. he makes promises he can’t keep but it’s mostly because he likes to hide that he’s more desperate than you are to get his dick wet. 
jake sim x afab reader 
MDNI!
WC: 5.6k
GENRE: smut, kinda subby!jake
TAGS: desperate jake, he’s experienced with sex just really bad at not being pussy drunk, reader has fun anyway and pokes fun at how he talked big game and couldn’t live up to it.
A/N:  i know, i know. i’m supposed to be writing a different jake fic but this happened.  this is a gift for my other monster cock loser jake lovers. not proof read
NSFW TAGS: he is packing a huge cock, nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, he gets compared to a dog/puppy a few times, dirty talk, jake gets desperate enough mid-way though and does fuck her really good, unprotected sex, cream pie, lots and lots and lots of cum.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Six times the man known as Jake Sim rendered you sore the next morning using nothing but pixel words on your phone screen. Six times over the span of two weeks. 
You met him at a party, and he was both the first and the last man you spoke to that night. You should have caught on back then why he didn’t bring you home with him and only offered you his number with a wink and a shit-eating grin. 
Now, as you see him in front of you again, this time in your apartment, you can see exactly why he didn’t bring you home. His facade would have been broken and you never would have been able to see the dirty little texts he’s able to send when he doesn’t have you looking him in the eye.
“Didn’t you say you were going to have me against every surface in my apartment the second you get here?” You question, twenty minutes into him being over and not once making a move on you. 
He looks much more awkward compared to the tipsy man you originally met, still his dyed blond hair looks just as messy though. His fashion is still on par with the attitude you’d seen him throw at you too but,  this version of him is throwing you for a loop. His lack of response leads you to believe that he must have lost interest in the span of time he’s been over.
“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Jake finally responds, brushing his fingers through his hair as he sits stiffly next to you on your bed, fully clothed. “Usually I don’t actually come see the girls I text.”
You shuffle next to him, turning with an eyebrow raised at him. 
“So you’re not going to, then?” 
Jake looks at you dumbfounded, shaking his head as if to pity himself before nodding quickly.
“I’d like to,” he argues, fiddling with his hands and avoiding your eyes now. “I just, um…”
You wait, allowing the silence to take hold of the room. 
“I’m a little more uh–” He fidgets and fumbles his words again. “Listen, I don’t want to disappoint you if I don’t live up to how we normally talk.”
“What do you mean by that?” You ask, feeling duped by the man sitting there. 
“I’m actually kind of like–” He lets out a deep sigh before turning toward you with honest eyes. “You’re making me shy, okay?” 
You breathe in, shocked because based on the strings upon strings of sentences he’s thrown your way via text, the last thing you’d ever consider Jake is fucking shy. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He was right in telling you he was shy, and by now you appreciate the warning from him. It took a few minutes to get yourself back into the mood, but it happened nonetheless when he finally buckled under your gaze and kissed you.
If there was anything Jake did that he promised, it was kissing you in a way you never knew you needed. He was good at it too, so good that you nearly forgot he was supposed to have already fucked you on every surface the two of you passed to get to the very room you’re in right now. 
Kind of strange actually, that he seems so different compared to his fantasies with girls he never thinks he will actually see again. So cocky in his text messages, saying he will ruin you, asking if you’d choke on his dick, saying he would love to see you struggle under him. Now though, that very man is struggling to keep his hands to himself despite admitting that he’s shy.
You chuckle into the kiss, feeling his hands reach for you with the sound of rustling clothing against your duvet. You let him chase as you slide lower, lower, lower, until your head is against your pillow and he’s practically hovering over you to keep kissing.
This is what you wanted. Jake over you, dominating a kiss and roaming his hands up and down your body. 
“Shy?” You question between kisses, trailing your hand down to meet where his was, snaking under your shirt. “You seem to know exactly what you want.”
Jake’s eyes are empty as he looks at you, the cold feeling of his fingertips do not stop though. He continues to trail them upward until they meet the flesh of your chest, where you skipped the bra because you expected it to be a nuisance if anything tonight. 
You’re shocked by his slight groan at the feeling of your already erect nipples. His groan seemed like it came out of relief, your body showing signs of being turned on despite his reluctance that was never promised to you. 
“If you were like this over text, I still would have liked you, you know.”  You admit to him with a sigh as he trails his lips down to your jaw, and you reach for his waist to pull him further on top of you. “You’re cute still, even if you’re not about to make me cry like you said you would.”
His cock twitches at that, wishing so much that he could live up to those dirty thoughts in his head and just fucking do it. But he can’t, because his body doesn’t work like that. If he were to do all of those things to you right now, he would surely come within the span of fifteen seconds and make this the worst fuck of your life. He’s too desperate to have control, and far too timid to even pull his cock out right now. 
“It’s embarrassing,” he whispers against your earlobe, trailing kisses there too until he gets to the collar of your shirt. “I want to do those things to you, but I don’t think I’d be able to last if–”
He’s cut off by you shoving him up and pulling your shirt off in one go, trying to get to business much quicker now that he appears to at least be turned on. (Wrong, he’s been turned on since before he even got here.)
Jake trails off his sentence, forgetting what he was even going to say as the flesh of your breast sits comfortably in one of his hands and the other springs free. His cock twitches again as he stares, practically burning a hole through you as he looks, mouth slowly opening in a sigh at the image.
You see him malfunction and wonder if maybe, maybe, this could be even better than what you originally were expecting. Such a rough looking man with messy hair and even rougher fingers acting like this at the mere sight of some titties? Sign you the fuck up.
“God, look at you.” You groan with a smile, chuckling at the way he appears to blush. “You talk such big game but…”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jake shakes it off, releasing his hand from your chest and now removing his own shirt and revealing a nice, toned body for you to look at. “It’s not my fault you make me act this way.”
“Oh? Just me, or?”
Jake nods, then shakes his head. 
“Not entirely, I’m just better at fucking over text.” He explains, now settling one leg between yours and dipping his head down to your chest, nuzzling against one of your tits and grabbing the other. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still want to fuck you right now though.”
You feel those words run through you, his soft voice coming out raspy and needy when he says it. 
“You’re a weird one,” You laugh, gripping his hair and bucking your hips up to straddle his thigh. “and I still want you fuck me, even if it’s not the way you said you would.” 
He licks against your chest now, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as he focuses on the feeling of you riding against his thigh. He’s thankful you still act desperate, at least you weren’t lying when you talked to him through texts.
“I’ll still make you feel good.” He whispers in a slight plea against your nipple, moving his head to the other and suckling against that one next. “Just let me try.”
God, you didn’t expect those four little words to hit you the way they do. A man asking you to let him try? Jake Sim at that? Sure, by now it should be expected but this is a different kind of heat flowing through you. Never have you been given control, and never have you felt the need to ride a man’s thigh like this. 
“Jake,” You start, a little out of breath as you move your hips against him to the point that clothing becomes far more annoying than not. “Can we please take our clothes off before anything else?”
He pauses against your nipple, nodding before suckling again and then finally pulling away.
“You first.” He says, not yet wanting to pull his thigh from the way you move against it. 
You look up at him, his lips glistening from his own saliva coating your chest.
“Why? Are you lying about your massive cock too?”
Jake looks down at the bulge between his legs and then back at you. Your eyes followed him to his cock, and they remained there.
“Oh.” You smile, now having the ability to pull yourself from his thigh and pull your shorts off at record speed. “Show me.”
Jake lets out a breathy and nervous chuckle, his ears flashing a darker shade of red than before as he nods to you in a timid way. You watch his hands go for the button and zipper, and you watch them further as they lower his pants to his knees before he kicks them away behind him. Now, all that’s left is looking at the already dampened spot on his briefs and the huge length stuffed beneath, clearly needing some relief. 
He still looks away from you, not yet moving to take off his briefs until you feel his hands pull at your panties. 
“Can I see now too?” He asks, already pulling them to the side and catching a glimpse of your folds. He shudders visibly at it before letting your panties snap back into place and all you can do is stare, still, between his legs.
“Take them off.” You deadpan.
He’s unsure if you’re implying he take his off, or yours, so he shoots for what he would prefer, gripping your panties and rolling them off of you. 
“Take. them. off.” You say, ignoring the fact that you’re entirely vulnerable before him, yet feel safe and comfortable because of how timid yet eager he appears to be. 
He fumbles to follow your direction, quickly kicking off his briefs and positioning himself between your legs again, sitting on his knees. 
Your eyes don’t leave his exposed cock. Thick and heavy. He truly wasn’t lying about that at least, and you can imagine that regardless of how shy he is, he definitely could make good on his word with a cock like that.
“Oh, fuck.” You comment, lifting on your elbows and sitting up. Your face is now mere inches from his, but your eyes continue to stare down. 
He puts a hand over himself shyly, wondering if maybe you’re not impressed, maybe he’s a complete fraud. 
“Are you disappointed?” He asks, leaning a bit back and away from you.
“Disappointed?” You laugh, looking back up at him and instantly grabbing his face, staring directly into his eyes. “Jake, you’re bigger than what you described it as.”
He smiles a bit, feeling all fuzzy and warm inside as you look at him. His confidence bubbles up, giving him every ability in the world at this moment, and what does he do with it? He looks between the two of you as he drops his cock and watches it land between your legs, and then he looks back at you before dipping in for a much less timid kiss.
Feeling his cock rest between your legs is one thing, but feeling how his tongue kisses into your mouth at a more eager pace than before is an entirely different thing. You’re loving it, despite the turn of events with him. 
“Not so shy now, hm?” You laugh, tilting your head before dipping back in to kiss him only to be met with a sigh of chuckles from him. 
“If you keep complimenting me, maybe someday I can live up to all those promises,” He says, putting a hand at the nape of your neck and laying you back down. “Then again, I don’t expect to last nearly as long with how wet you seem to have gotten.”
You hum against his words, hands reaching between your body and his to grab his length and hold it, just to feel the weight, just to see how much of it you can fit into one hand…just to see if–
He groans at the first touch, his body shivering against yours as he trails his lips down again, landing against your neck with a small pant when his hips buck into your palm. 
“I can’t believe that this whole time, this is how you react to having your dick touched.”
He says nothing and instead, continues to fall into the feeling of the short tugs against his cock, barely stimulating his entire length but still feeling like it’s enough to keep him pleased for the time being. 
“Wanna, maybe, I don’t know–” You playfully start, tugging his cock a bit harder this time after collecting some of the pre-cum from the head, “Touch me too?”
Say no more, Jake’s fingers are instantly at your entrance as soon as you say it, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. 
“I can’t believe how wet you are,” he coos, bottoming his two fingers out before gently beginning to thrust them in. “Were you like this when we texted too?”
“Wetter.” You lie, mostly because you were extremely wet from his texts but this…this is entirely different. You’re far more wet. 
“Oh?” Jake asks, looking slightly disappointed but you can feel the way he changes how he moves his fingers. He also stops rutting against your hand, as if to put all of his focus on making you as wet as possible. 
You moan for him at the feeling, his fingers tickling a spot inside of you that always has you seeing stars. Part of you wonders if he even knows he’s doing it, but you don’t press him, instead, you reward him with a tighter grip, pumping his cock until you can feel more beads of pre-cum slathering your fingertips. 
“You need to be more confident, fuck–” You call out in a half moan, unprepared for the Jake that showed up but completely prepared to praise the hell out of what he’s doing. “This alone could have anyone on their knees.”
He smiles, furrowing his brow as he looks up at you, fingers picking up pace and starting to scissor you open. 
“Can I taste you?” He asks out of fucking nowhere, and god. 
“Jesus, Yes.” You groan, feeling him pound his fingers into you three more times before sliding out and pulling away from you. 
You close your eyes, anticipating what it must be like to have him eat your pussy, and fuck, he wasn’t lying about that either. You remember that text from him, when he said “i’ll lick up every inch of your pussy babe, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”
The fact that you didn’t ask him to do it. The fact that he’s down there right now, already spreading you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. You’re just more and more pleased with this shy man that showed up on your doorstep. 
His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.
He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer. 
You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to lick into you even deeper.
“Holy shit,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue. 
He’s nearly going insane the moment you do that, riding his tongue and gripping his hair so harshly. If he could die like this, it would only be a dream. 
Jake hums into you with his lips curling up at each drag of your hips, each taste of your walls, up until you’re grinding so aggressively that his tongue is back to hitting your clit for a split second before dipping in. He lets you do it, loving the way you use his face like a toy but, he’s starting to feel desperate for you. 
In this position with his arms hugging your thighs and back arched as he dips down to lick you, his cock is fucking aching and all he can do is fuck forward. There is nothing for him to pleasure himself with, but this suffices for him as the act of humping forward alone is enough to satiate his intense need to fuck something right now. 
Like a dog, humping just to release his intense arousal as he holds onto you. He should be embarrassed, but he knows you can’t see him do it. Especially when he flicks his eyes up and sees your tits jiggling with each move of your hips. Especially when you open your own eyes and they land only on his face. He’d like to think he’s doing a hell of a job right now, especially with how no matter how much he licks, you continue to drip for him. 
As you continue to ride yourself against his face, you suddenly feel his fingers squeezing against your thighs and his head abandon where you guide him. Wanting to taste you still, he neglects your riding hips and plants his lips at your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue until your grip in his hair grows more and more painful and you pull him back to look at him.
His eyes are dazed and his lips are glistening in a swollen and cheeky little smile. He stares back at you, licking his puffy bottom lip before letting his eyes roll at the feeling of that grip you have in your hair.
“Fuck, you’re loving this aren’t you?” You ask, now trailing your eyes down to his body and noting the way he’s desperately chasing nothing with his cock. You know he wants it, and god, are you going to let him have it. 
He grins when you ask him, and he nods proudly at how your arousal coats his mouth and chin. He can smell the entirety of you on his face and it truly does feel amazing to him. Like he’s spiraling into a world of bliss simply for getting to lick your pussy. 
You can barely contain yourself as you watch him. It’s like you’ve lost him completely from reality with the way he’s smiling, and the way his eyes remain drowsy and hooded. You could argue that the man acts cross-faded, but the fact that he acts like this over your pussy? 
“I bet if I asked you to fuck me right now, you’d beg like a little puppy, wouldn’t you?” 
His groan is long and drawn out with his slow nod, his hips fucking forward instinctively when his eyes trail down and sees that your pussy is practically pulsing. 
“Do you want me to beg?” He says in a shaky voice, his chest heaving as his grip on your thighs grow tighter and you drag him back up to your face. 
There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him fuck forward again, sliding his cock against your drenched core and letting out another pained whimper.
“You’re so wet, please.” He cries against your lips as he drops his face lower. 
Your arms shoot around him, feeling his back muscles tense with each intentional thrust against you. The weight of his cock is sliding consistently up and down your pussy, bumping your clit and overstimulating it to the point that all you’d need to do is tense your muscles and you’d be releasing. 
He said please, and you can argue that he’d probably do a flip if you so much as asked him to right now. As much as you wanted to choke on his dick, at this point you’d rather feel what it’s like to have him losing control inside of you. You want to know how he uses it, and you’re already well aware that he very well may make you lose grasp on reality. 
Even now, you can feel his slack lips moving up and down against your own as he continues to hump against you. You can feel his breath on your tongue when you try to see if he’s too lost to even kiss you. And that, he was.
“Go on,” You encourage him, running one hand down his arm and the other up to his hair to grip it again. There, you pull his head back, watching his neck crane and eyebrows furrow in a wince at the feeling. “Fuck me then.”
His unintentional moan comes out strained with the way you have his head pulled back, but he moves one arm to one side of your head and the other straight to his cock, where all he needs to do is press it down and hold it there. As he continues fucking against you, that small motion lets him slide in with ease. 
You can feel his arm beside your head shake at the feeling of his length spreading you open. You can see the way he swallows thickly at the feeling, moaning out and staring at your ceiling as he feels your walls slowly hug his entire length. 
He enters you slowly so that he can feel his sock squeeze your wet out of you, feeling it run down his balls. He shivers at the feeling and the sound of it, and you shiver at how deep he manages to slide in. 
It’s so deep. His thick cock aches inside of you and with the way your walls squeeze him, and even when he tightly fucks forward once again once he’s already bottomed out, he manages to fill you just just that much more. 
You groan out, releasing his hair from your shaking fingers and feeling his lips immediately kiss against your jaw and neck. 
“Fuck, fuck.” He whimpers, relieving you of an inch of him before sliding back in slowly. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He continues, moving a hand down to your thigh and swirling his fingertips there to try and calm your shaking legs.
You can’t really comprehend anything other than the fact that this man is so fucking hot, and the way he slowly moves his hips just to feel each and every clench of your pussy has you seeing stars. You feel like he’s filled you up beyond belief, and each thrust somehow makes his cock feel heavier, bigger. 
Even as he babbles against your neck, his other hand falls to your tit and he can’t help but mindlessly play with it as he begins to actually fall into a rhythm. You’re still rendered completely speechless as you focus on every single touch he gives to you.
Those gentle, soothing circles of his fingertips on your leg, the other hand harshly pinching your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body, his cock being driven in, somehow, deeper and deeper as he continuously manages to hit your g-spot and– god, the way his lips slowly trail down to your other tit, biting you there.
“So tight, so good.” He babbles on, slamming his cock into you once before lifting from your breast to see your reaction. 
When he looks up at you, a permanent shit-eating grin is planted on his face with the way you roll your eyes back in a silent moan. Perhaps he wasn’t so much of a liar in those texts. Seeing you react this way has his confidence skyrocketing as he continues to keep that pace. The sound of your pussy being pounded and dripping all over him. He can’t even believe how wet you are, how tight you are still.
He stays like this, staring at each reaction and silent moan as he focuses solely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. He may not be fast, but he’s making sure you can feel every goddamn inch he has to offer, and it appears that you’re relishing in it. 
Those silent moans you try to release always end in a small hiccup each time his hips meet your inner thighs, and it’s not long before you’re losing grasp all together. You shoot your hands to his arms, gripping his biceps as your only link to reality as you feel him continuously bump the back of your pussy in an immaculate show of how well he knows how to fuck.
“Jake,” You hiccup out, gripping his biceps harder as you clench around him. 
Still, his cock drags through your attempts of speaking, and he continues to stare at you with a grin before hovering his lips over yours.
“What is it?” He whispers in a shaky breath, sucking in his bottom lip and only now picking up the pace so that he can render you speechless again. 
You can feel his lips ghosting over yours, and you really thought you had something to say but the only thing that comes out is a sobbed out moan. You throw your legs around his waist now, moving your own hips to meet his and that alone has him spiraling again.
“Yeah,” He chuckles, dipping his head to your neck and resting it there, “Fuck me,” he whimpers this time, stilling his hips to feel the way you slide him in and out of you.
Still, your strength amazes him. He thought he had control for a few minutes there and yet here he is, acting much like you are with his trembling hands and trembling thoughts. 
You continue to work your hips from under him, and you don’t even know when he stopped playing with your nipple but it doesn’t entirely matter. Not now, not when you need more of him. 
He’s thrown off when you grab his hair again, and he still loves it as much as he did the first two times you did it to him. Then, he can hear your raspy voice whisper out to him as you drag his face, once again, to yours.
“Lay back.” 
That’s all you had to say to have him immediately listening and maneuvering his body in a way that keeps his cock buried deep but still managing to throw himself back on the bed for you to take full control.
Now, he looks up at you and the way your darkened eyes devour him. He’s so fucking turned on right now that he thinks he might cry, especially with the way your knees hug his hips as you immediately start fucking yourself on him.
He’s in awe, hands reaching behind you to grab at your ass and spread it as you bounce on him. Each time you sit yourself down, it’s like you’re being impaled in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he keeps eye contact with you is intense and dangerously intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to look away either.
That smile forms back on his lips as you pick up your pace, and through that smile are moans so erotic you can feel your pussy drench him over and over again each time he does it. Never, have you had sex so fucking good in your life and it’s making you feel almost helpless as you work yourself up to an orgasm.
He still watches you though, before flicking his eyes down and taking in the image of your bouncing tits. He’s quick to remove his hands from your ass to fondle them before sitting himself up aggressively and sucking one into his mouth.
You moan out at that, stilling your bouncing as you opt now to sit with his cock entirely inside of you. You swirl your hips and plant your fingers in his hair, hugging his head as he sucks and bites a swollen spot against your chest before he holds you in an even tighter hug. 
“I’m so, so close.” He says in a broken sigh, trying to move his hips up under your weight and failing to do it.  You listen to his cries though, and resume your bouncing even through his harsh and suffocating hug. 
“Yeah?” You ask, bouncing once, swirling your hips, and then pressing your weight on him to have him falling back into his rightful spot against your bed. 
His grip around you remains, dragging you down with him as he breathes himself through the pleasure and babbles out strings of curses when you manage to still work your hips on him even though he’s gripping onto you for dear life. 
“Gonna let me feel it?” You ask again, this time more playfully as you intentionally press your clit against his pelvis each time you slide him into you. 
He nods brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut and loosening his grip on you, letting you break free and ultimately, intentionally fuck him until he’s pumping you full of everything he has to offer.
You watch as he lies there, seemingly lost again in the bliss of your pussy clenching around him. He barely notices your fingers circling your clit, and is shocked to realize that you’re releasing before him, despite how close he is.
He can feel your walls massage his aching cock as you begin to let out strained moans. He knows you’re coming the second he feels how tight you’re clenching, sucking his cock so deeply inside of you that he has no choice but to release. 
He fucks into you as best he can at this moment, only stopping when he feels the first release inside of you, and there, he tenses his muscles and allows his stiffened length to nearly tear you in half as you continue to work through your own pleasure. 
You can barely open your eyes to see his face, and the way his jaw is slack and his eyes are very nearly crossing before squeezing them shut. God, that alone could have made your orgasm last another ten seconds.
By the time you’re done, he’s still releasing somehow. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilling into you is arguably more than you’ve ever felt, and he trembles through it with whimpered apologies, begging you to stay on him, apologizing with a small “ fuck, wait, I’m still coming–”
And you do, especially through his shaking whisper of “please, take all of it.” 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He’s back to his timid self just an hour later, lying on your bed wondering when you’re going to tell him to leave. Wondering if you like him enough to let him do this again with you, hoping you don’t erase his number. 
He’s pleased to know though that, you not only ask him to sleep over but you also make it your mission to go down on him the moment he wakes up next to you. Reminding him that even if he was different upon coming over, he still fucked you better than he ever promised. 
You’d be stupid not to choke on it for him. 
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polarisjisung · 6 months
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PETNAMES NCT DREAM WOULD USE
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pairings: nct dream x fem!reader
genre: fluff
wc: 0.7k
warnings: hopefully none
notes: this is a little shorter than usual but if you couldn't tell already I'm a sucker for petnames (if you think they're cringy you're just painfully single 😤) so I HAD to make this
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MARK — my girl/babe
now mark's a chill laid back guy, and he loves you like crazy but he also doesn't see any need in extravagant nicknames or petnames and he sticks to the classics, he probably won't address you by your name for the most part so he'll just stick to babe. sweet and simple
"that's my girl" is such a classic mark thing, he gets proud over the smallest things you do, he's like your personal cheerleader. It could be something so small as flipping an egg without breaking the yolk and mark would be ecstatic.
RENJUN — darling
nicknames are serious business for renjun, every now and then he'll call you babe but to him it feels too casual— most likely it'll be something very specific to your relationship and how you met but if not he loves darling, it feels the most endearing to him.
JENO — baby/angel/gorgeous
for the most part jeno will stick to baby, sometimes babe but in his softest moments he'll go for angel— it's unconscious really.
but to jeno you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, like his own personal angel— somehow you always know what to do/say when he's feeling down and he's never met someone like that before. you're unique and somehow everything you do feels perfect to jeno, he thinks your soul is so pure, you're his angel.
on occasion jeno will throw a quick but calculated "good morning gorgeous" your way— mainly because it has you absolutely falling apart to the point where you can't even form coherent sentences, but jeno thinks it's cute
HAECHAN — sunshine/sunflower/honey
you bring out the best in him, you're his motivation and you give him so much energy for performances and his idol life, especially when things get tough so calling you his sunshine just feels right to haechan.
haechan probably throws around a lot of nicknames with you, sometimes some a little too weird, but he knows it'll get you smiling
"hey snookums" he'd say casually as he enters the room
"are you talking to me hyuck?"
he'd nod eagerly and you can't help but giggle at his dorky smile
"I love you but please, never call me that again" best believe he'll stick to that nickname for the rest of the week
and of course every time he steps through the door, haechan has to announce "honey, I'm home" like hes in some american sitcom, as if you didn't see him pull up in the drive and hear his keys jingle as he unlocked the door— you love him either way
JAEMIN — princess/pretty
sure jaemin thinks he's a princess but you? you're like the princess of all princesses. plus jaemin feels the need to remind you of your worth day in and day out— you're a princess and so you deserve to be treated like one, given jaemin's practically a king at princess treatment, you'd consider it appropriate
jaemin thinks you're pretty no doubt. in some moments, especially when you don't quite share the same opinion, jaemin will be the first one to remind you, and if you're feeling down "hey pretty look at me" he'd say in that soft low tone of his that's so awfully comforting, with two hands on your shoulder before giving you the pep talk of a lifetime
CHENLE — babe/baby
chenle's not much of a petnames guy aside from a casual babe/baby here and there but you suppose that's what makes it all the more special when he does use them
he much prefers to have a nickname for you that's exclusive to him than using petnames, but if its something you're into he'll definitely try and step up his game, also if he gets teased by his members for calling you by your name
a jealous chenle uses all the petnames under the sun— anything to make it clear you're his girl
JISUNG — (my) love/beautiful
jisung is usually soft spoken but too shy to throw around "I love/like you's" without becoming a blushing mess so his favourite way to subtly remind you just how much you mean to him are through petnames. he truly thinks you're beautiful inside and out, so it's one of the first names he addresses you with.
he likes to switch it up, testing and seeing which ones your smile grows the widest at. he decides love feels right. after all, you were the person who taught him all about it.
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darkbluekies · 5 months
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King Edmund and Hedwig drabbles: running away but changing your mind and getting lost
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Yandere!king & female!yandere x reader (female in Edmund’s case and gn in hedwigs)
I had a request similar to this like a year ago, but i deleted it because I couldn't come up with anything ... and now I have so ... that's annoying.
And this is probably the nicest Edmund has ever been. Weird.
BUT HEY I LOVE THE RELATIVES
Warnings: weapons, but actually pretty fluffy
King Edmund:
You had taken a horse and gone away into the forest. But here you are, sitting by a tree with the horse tied to a branch, hugging yourself and crying. What had you done? You finally realize how stupid you are. Why did you leave him? Why?
You're cold and lonely. Thieves are roaming the forest and you know that they would be delighted to find the queen all by herself. But you don't know the way home, and if you get up on your horse you risk going even further away. Staying in one place will be the best decision if you want to be found ... hopefully by the right people.
Suddenly, after what feels like (and probably have been) hours, you notice a sound.
"Y/N, your game is up."
Edmund!
You stand up and turn around, seeing him and his knights around you, their horses looking at you dumbly. The knights hold out their bayonets, but you don't care. You run over to Edmund, throwing yourself in his arms and crying ― crying in sorryness, in relief over being found by the right people, crying in fear and shame. Edmund's taken by surprise at first. He had been fully prepared to threaten you to get you to come back. Edmund's arms lock around you, securing your head into his shoulder.
"Lower your fucking weapons!" he tells the knights angrily. "Are you insane pointing them at us like that?!"
He turns to you, but before he has the chance to ask you how you're feeling of why you were so stupid to escape from him, you've already started rambling.
"I'm sorry, Edmund!" you sob. "I'm so sorry! I don't know why I did that! I regretted it immediatly, I promise! I wanted to go back but I-I lost my way and-" You can't finish your sentence, your breathe hitching with sobs.
"Shh, it's okay", he cooes, kissing your forehead. "You're back where you belong now, you're safe."
"I wanted to go back, I promise ... but I didn't know which way was the right one. I'm so sorry!"
You cry against his shoulder, hugging him tightly. Weirdly enough, you have never been happier to see someone that has hurt you. Edmund's your husband, you have accepted that. You hadn't realized that you had started to like him before now.
"It's okay, my dear", Edmund reassures you in a sweet, hushed tone and rests his head on top of yours, enjoying having you in his arms again. He rocks you back and forth gently, as if to coo you. "There's no need to cry, I'm here now. You will never have to worry when I'm here. You know that I will take care of everything."
His words are so comforting, so belieavable. You nod against his shoulder.
"Let's go home", he says. "You're cold."
He lifts you up on his white horse before cimbing up himself in front of you. You wrap your arms around his waist and hide your face into his warm back, crying even more. Why isn't he mad at you? You betrayed him. Edmund can't bring himself to be mad. You're genuinly sorry, he can't be mad at you for making a mistake ... a ridicolously stupid mistake, perhaps, but a mistake nonetheless. He needs to comfort you, not punish you.
"Make sure Y/N's horse comes with us", he says before riding off with you behind him.
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Hedwig:
If you desperately had to fight with Hedwig about how controlling she is and storm off ... why did it have to be in a foreign country? You want to punch yourself for your idioticy. She's suffocating, yes, but you do love her ... somehow you still love her. And you want nothing more than to go back to her and have her hold you. How will you find her when you can't ask for directions back to her vacation house and can't trace your steps back. Why do European countries have to have such narrow, maze-like alleyways?!
You've found yourself on a bench in front of a cafe in the staking sun. You'll have to get up and look for the right way later, but your feet are probably bleeding.
"Y/N?!" you hear Hedwig's voice suddenly shriek. "Oh, my Gosh, Y/N!"
She runs over to the bench and you hurry to wrap your arms around her waist, hiding your face into her stomach. You can't help but sniffle in relief and sorry ... remembering how you left the house.
"I've been looking all over for you!" Hedwig pants. "I was so worried!"
"I'm sorry, Hedwig", you cry into her stomach. "For everything. I-"
She hugs your head closer and kisses the top of your head. "It's okay, I have forgiven you! "
She sits down on the bench next to you and cup your head into her hands. You sob.
"I'm just so happy to see you alive", she says in relief and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face. "But, dear, you're dehydrated! You'll pass out!"
She takes out a bottle of water from her handbag and feeds you half of it, before water starts to run down your chin.
"Why haven't you been drinking water?" she asks worriedly. "You could have passed out and who knows how dangerous that could have been?!"
"i didn't have any money", you say quietly. "I'm so sorry, I tried to find my way back, because I regret that I left ... but I couldn't ask for directions. I can't speak the language and I didn't have my phone and-"
"It's okay. I forgive you. But please don't do it again. It's dangerous. And I was so worried. My father was close to calling the cops and having them look for you."
"I'm sorry, Hedwig."
She hugs you, letting you rest your heavy head on her shoulder.
"It's okay", she reassures you. "I'm not mad at you. You know that I only want your best, right?"
You nod.
"You need to cool down", she says and stands up, holding out her hand to you. "Let's go get you some ice cream."
"My feet hurt really bad", you mumble.
"I will buy you new shoes too, and bandage and everything you need. Will you come with me? Please?"
You sigh and take her hand. Hedwig is the most confusing person you know, because how can she be so horrible, yet so magical?
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euphemiaamillais · 8 months
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everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer - coriolanus snow
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in which peacekeeper!coryo teaches you a lesson after he finds you out after curfew.
cw: 18+//gun play//blowjobs//name-calling//misogyny//piv sex//slapping//hair pulling//rough sex
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you feel something cold press against the back of your head, and hear the sound of something click. his finger hovers on the trigger; he’s not afraid to use it to get what he wants. a district girl is beneath him, but the way you’re wearing such a tight little dress has to be on purpose. the way you’re flaunting yourself, and after curfew at that.
he just has to remind you who’s in charge here.
‘you shouldn’t be out at this time,’ his voice is cool, but stern. you feel him grip at your waist; trapping you in his clutch. there’s no way you can hop off now, bunny.
‘i’m sorry,’ you offer, a little disgruntled that he’s got you like this. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s a peacekeeper. after all, you shouldn’t really have taken a walk so close to their barracks.
‘i don’t think you’re very sorry,’ he spins you around, gun now pointing at your pretty little neck.
his eyes are piercing blue; so much so that you are able to make them out in the moonlight. his platinum blonde buzzcut is visible too, as well as a noble, aquiline nose. he’s clearly been shipped in from the capitol. you’ve seen him around before, with that other peacekeeper, the one who hardly looks like he belongs.
‘i am, sir,’ you state firmly, trying to wriggle away from him. you know it’s best to not provoke them, but you really just want to get home. all you’d done was take a walk for some fresh air—it had been a long day at the market.
‘oh, really?’ he cocks a brow, and runs the end of the gun along your jawline, tracing over the smooth skin. your heart leaps in your chest. for some reason, you’re strangely excited by the gun. the fact that at any second, he could shoot you. but you know he wouldn’t. how could he? you’re so pretty, and perhaps he’ll just have to teach you a lesson.
‘yes,’ you’re not offering him more than a one or two word sentence, wanting to be off as quick as possible. you’ve heard stories about what some of the peacekeepers do to girls who don’t obey them…
but deep down, a part of you wants to find out.
‘hm,’ he purses his lips, moving the gun down your neck, tracing over the two collarbones which stand out—a reminder that you’re district, and weren’t raised on the gourmet luxuries of capitol.
‘now, sir, if you’d let me go,’ you begin, but he stills, and wraps his free hand around your wrist, clenching at the delicate bones. if he presses even a little harder, you’re sure you’ll hear a crunch.
‘oh, i don’t think so,’ he grins, moving his grip up your arm, feeling the exposed skin.
you’ve got goosebumps from the cold, and perhaps the way he’s touching you. your thighs burn with heat. some strange part of you wants him—wants to find out just what he’ll do to a girl like you who’s been breaking the rules.
‘i think, somebody needs to be taught a little lesson about disobeying orders,’ he taunts, and slides his gun back into its holster, only so he can have both his hands on you.
‘oh, i’m disobedient now, am i?’ you admit that you’ve given quite a lot of cheek, but you like this peacekeeper. he’s different—he’s playing a game with you, and perhaps you’re just willing enough to walk right into his trap.
‘don’t be smart with me, doll,’ he quips, and you shut your mouth, not particularly wanting to end up roadkill.
he leads you down the path, towards the back gate of the barracks. you follow—well, it’s not like you have a choice, he’s gripping your arm so hard you’d probably have to break it to free yourself. the pebble road crunches under your feet, and you feel a strange excitement creeping up your spine. the cool air kisses your skin, bringing about a pretty flush to your cheeks, and yet you can’t help but wonder if you’re blushing from the way he’s holding you.
it’s silent when he pushes the gate open, taking great care to be quiet. he casts you a knowing look, and you try your best to be absolutely silent. god knows what fifty peacekeepers would do if you were caught sneaking in.
it’s a little filthy, the fact that you’re letting him take you like this. you’re not begging and pleading for him to let you go, like the other girls do when he catches them stumbling home after an encounter with a lover, or perhaps innocently picking flowers along the side of the road. no, you’re different. you want this, he can see it in your eyes, the way they’re blown wide as he drags you through the door of the barracks.
he presses a finger to your lips, and guides you to the last bunk. it’s strangely quiet, you can’t hear any stirring, and realise that you’re completely alone. he must’ve planned it, the fucking bastard—picking a pretty girl from the side of the road while the rest of the peacekeepers are out in town.
‘what are you going to do to me, officer?’ you feign an innocent look, biting your bottom lip.
he shoves you onto your knees, and you stumble a little, given the fact that you’re wearing an uncomfortable pair of shoes—clearly you hadn’t really been taking a late night walk in those heels.
‘oh, don’t pretend you’re so innocent, dressed like that,’ he eyes the way your dress clings to your breasts, barely covering the ample cleavage. obviously you were hoping to catch someone’s attention.
you can’t help but giggle, though you’re soon quietened by the feeling of his gun pressing against your forehead; cocked and ready to fire. his hand isn’t even trembling, and he looks down upon you sternly.
‘it’s not funny,’ he scolds, clicking his tongue in displeasure. ‘you think you can just traipse about at any time of the night without consequences? you’re lucky i’m so nice. any other peacekeeper would’ve shot you on site.’
he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear with the gun, and you tremble, beginning to feel a little afraid. he’s so much larger than you, and now that you’re on your knees, you can see the outline of his cock straining uncomfortably against the trousers of his uniform.
‘i think it would be such a shame though, for a pretty girl like you to have a bullet put through her head,’ he muses, puckering his lips. ‘i just wanted to put my cock in you and show you how little you’re really worth, what being district scum and all. it’s pathetic, thinking that you can just get away with doing whatever you want.’
your knees are aching already, and a little greedily, you reach out your hands and begin to unzip his trousers. you’re met by a slap clean across your cheek, which stings and causes a few tears to prick at the corners of your eyes.
‘don’t fucking touch me unless i tell you!’ he yells, and he doesn’t have to say it again to get it through your head. the red mark forming on your cheek is enough of a reminder.
‘god dammit,’ he spits, readjusting the grip he has on the gun. you look so pathetic, trying not to cry. he can’t believe you tried to tell him what to do—don’t you know that little district whores like you don’t get a say? he’ll be sure to fuck that into you. obedience can always be taught—especially when you’re being pounded like a common whore.
he unzips his trousers himself, tugging them down to his knees, and then removes his white boxers, revealing a large, veiny cock that looks in dire need of relief. your mouth can’t help but to water, and he doesn’t even need to tell you to open your mouth, you’re that desperate to have it inside of you.
he slides the tip of his cock past your plump lips, which are wet with saliva, and you begin to diligently suck. he can’t help but groan, still pressing the gun prettily against your head, liking the surge of power it gives him, holding your life in his hands. one wrong move, one attempt to disobey him, and you could be dead. of course, it would be so fucking messy to clean you up. a sticky pool of blood and brains. even that was too much for him.
‘god, you fucking whore,’ he groans as you move your tongue deftly up and down his shaft, taking care to pay special attention to the rigid veins. you’ve done it enough times to know how to really make a man squirm.
the threat of a gun at your head is somehow making your palms burn with want, and heat to pool at your core. you want nothing more than his big cock to stretch you out and fill you with his hot, sticky cum.
‘you like that, don’t you? taking my cock like the little slut you are,’ he bucks his hips a little, forcing his cock further down your throat.
this time you really gag, not like with the other men where you have to stroke their egos. his cock is a choking hazard. you suck in a breath through your nose, and continue to wrap your lips around his shaft, bobbing your head up and down. you gaze up at him with bleary eyes, but he grabs a fistful of your hair and forces your head down further.
real tears spring to your eyes, and begin to trickle down your cheeks as you take all of him in. he doesn’t even give you the opportunity to use your hands, and you can feel his balls slapping against your chin as he fucks your throat.
you’re clutching at his legs, attempting to centre yourself while he’s brutalising your throat. he’s barely letting you put in the work now, his cock pulsing with desire. he’s so close, he can feel it, and he wants to cum right down your pretty throat.
he cries out, thrusts slowing, your throat utterly bruised and battered, and seconds later you feel him spilling his hot load. you swallow it all, showing him just how obedient you are, and he pulls out, watching as spit dribbles down your chin. you look so helpless, a dumbfounded look in your eyes, cum dribbling from your puffy lips.
‘get up!’ he commands, using the gun to gesture to the bottom bunk of one of the beds.
you scramble around for a second, knees aching, and just as you find your balance, he pushes you flat on your stomach against the bed. you feel his hands on your ass now, sliding over the cheap fabric of your dress, tugging it up at the hem to reveal your panties. god, you really are a little whore, wearing black lace panties. you’re just begging to be fucked.
‘i haven’t finished teaching you your lesson yet,’ he remarks, cool fingers tracing over your slick folds. ‘i don’t think you’ve been very obedient.’
you shake your head, trying not to gasp as he slips a finger inside your hole. he can’t believe how tight you are, considering you’ve probably sold yourself to half the men in district 12. he slips another finger in, feeling generous, curling it up in just the right spot.
you mewl, and he slaps your ass, in utter disbelief that you think that you can enjoy what he’s doing. whores don’t get to cum, no, they get to take what they’re given. he’ll make sure of that.
his cock is already hard again at the thought of getting to bury himself in you, and he’s hasty about pulling your panties down. you adjust yourself a little, and he groans at the sight of your wet hole, trickling with slickness. jesus, how fucking desperate were you?
‘so fuckin’ hard,’ he grunts, grabbing his cock with one hand and sliding it into your cunt without any time for adjustment.
you let out a heavy breath, feeling his big cock stretch you out—you’re thankful you’re not a virgin. he begins to slide in and out, building up a solid pace. when he hears you gasping, and sees that you’ve got your fingers at your clit, he reaches forward and pulls you up by your hair, causing you to lose your way with your hands.
‘what did i say, hm? you obey me, and clearly you can’t fuckin’ do that,’ he hisses, tugging your hair so hard that you feel your scalp prickling.
he shoves you back down again, and this time you don’t dare to touch yourself, no matter how much your cunt throbs with want. you accept his punishment, and let him pound into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the barracks.
you’re such a whore, the way you gasp at all the right times as his big cock stretches around your tight walls. he bets you’ve taken cock hundreds of times, but he’s determined to be the best, making sure you know what you’re worth—which is nothing. you’re so beneath him, you’re the fucking dirt on his shoe, and he won’t hesitate to polish you off if you don’t do as he says.
he’s really pounding you now, hands gripping roughly at your hips in an attempt to drive himself further into your cunt, watching as your pussy leaves a milky ring around his base. his dog tags dangle in his face as he bends down to shove himself deeper into you, and the jangling reminds you that he’s the one in charge here. you’re just a poor little girl from the districts, and he’s got the authority. he could do whatever he wanted to you, and he’d get away with that. he won’t let you forget.
‘god, you’re taking me so well,’ he grunts, bucking his hips in pleasure. ‘such a fuckin’ whore though.’
he pulls at your hair again, and you groan, feeling your head snap back a little. he’s fucking you so hard, and while you’re enjoying it, you do have to admit there’ll be bruises on your hips and thighs come tomorrow morning. you’re not mad about it though, liking the thought that you’re all his.
‘have you learned your lesson, hm?’ he asks, snapping his hips against your ass, chasing the peak that is building up as your walls clench around him.
‘yes,’ you mumble, dumbfounded. your brief answer is unsatisfactory, however, and earns you another slap across the ass. this one leaves a pretty red hand print, a memento from him.
‘yes what?’ he eggs, rubbing his hand against the other cheek, ready to strike again if you don’t give him the answer he wants.
‘yes sir,’ you cry out, beads of sweat clinging to your forehead as he slams into you.
‘good girl. that wasn’t so hard now, was it?’ he inquires, and you shake your head lazily.
he’s going so hard now you’re not sure if you can take it, and you clutch desperately at the corner of the bed, whining. though you don’t dare beg him to stop, afraid of what he’ll do. he slams into you one last time, and feels himself come undone. he spills his spend into your wet cunt, hot spurts of cum filling you up. another pathetic district girl taking his load. he smiles to himself.
‘you loved every second of that, didn’t you?’ he pulls out of you, watching you turn around and face him, dress up around your waist, hips speckled with fresh bruises from where he’s gripped you.
‘yes sir,’ you answer back, and he offers a smirk in return, never happier to hear that name on your lips.
now you know just exactly what peacekeepers do to pretty girls that don’t obey them.
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shotmrmiller · 7 months
Note
Neighbour ghoap secretly vandalising/messing with your apartment to get you into their own. Oh your heatings bust? No we have no idea what happened to your boiler but why don't you come over to the apartment where they can keep you warm ;)
Oh, your shower/bath is broken? You can use theirs
Someone broke the lock on your front door? Oh well. You better stay with them so they can keep you safe while you get a new lock
i had to delete this whole thing i wrote cuz it went really spook real fast.
but yeah, if you won't go over to theirs, then they'll make you.
maybe they start slow. you need to get used to interacting with simon, so when you're gone for work johnny lets himself into your flat and takes your sugar or leaves the milk jug out for it to spoil.
that's how you end up knocking on their door at 7 am, asking simon for a bit of whatever it is you need.
he takes great care in speaking to you softly as if you are a skittish animal
"here ya go, love."
"it's alrigh', don't worry 'bout it."
once you warm up to him enough to look him in the eyes when you say hello, they definitely mess with the boiler and take a wrench to your showerhead.
ooooo
they invite you to stay for as long as you need, and if you want the bed.
no?
you sure?
alright. well let us know if you need anything!
come morning, you're apple-cheeked and can't get a sentence out without stammering because the entire night you had the pleasure of listening in on them going at it all night.
christ.
you can't even look at them without breaking eye contact within seconds.
you can't stop thinking about it.
can't stop thinking about if simon's long, thick fingers would feel as good inside you as they did in johnny.
can't stop thinking if you'd even be able to take one of them at all, by the intimidating size of their bulging crotches in the grey joggers they're both wearing.
would they take turns? would johnny (the very clear bottom) clean up simon's spend with his tongue from your swollen entrance?
you mumble out a thank you as johnny gives you breakfast and eat in silence, while the guys talk to themselves.
the soft, hushed tone of their voices bring last night back to the forefront of your mind.
how johnny moaned in his pleasure, how simon whispered words of praise.
would johnny be the one talking filth into your ear or would it be simon?
ack.
how embarrassing, daydreaming about a male couple fucking you senseless.
you leave for work, and they decide to up their game by making it seem like someone broke into your home. they'll make sure to leave it trashed, so you have no other choice but to stay with them for the unforeseeable future. (they are absolutely not letting you stay at a hotel. they'll twist your arm about it if they have to)
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jeonggukieverse · 19 days
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Number One Fan
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Pairing: Writer Y/N x Yandere Jungkook 
Genre: Yandere/Horror Fic 
Warnings: This is gonna be a pretty dark one, so I’m going to put content warnings and disclaimers each chapter. There aren’t any in this one :)
Word count: 1.5k
Synopsis - After a serious car crash, novelist Y/N is rescued by former nurse Jeon Jungkook, who claims to be her biggest fan. Jungkook brings her to his remote cabin to recover, where his obsession takes a dark turn when he discovers Y/N is killing off his favourite character from her novels. As Y/N devises plans for escape, Jungkook grows increasingly controlling.
- Ryeon <3
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Teaser
Your feet were aching. The torn-up flesh on the souls of your bare feet pound on the mossy patches of the forest floor. The foul mixture of half melted snow and mud seeped into your wounds. It hurts. But you don’t care. 
Your lungs feel as though they would shrivel up at any moment. Each inhale feels like fie and acid pooling in your chest. Your poor heart is doing all that it can to keep going. As are you. 
Your skin was damp with sweat. The once warm perspiration that seeped out of you now clung to your clothes, making you cold. You felt as though you had been running for hours.
But you couldn’t stop. You mustn’t stop running. You had to get away from him. 
You only had one chance to escape and this was it. 
You knew that if he caught you, that would be the end of the game. And you will have lost.  
A game. 
That’s what this was. 
That’s what everything in your life was and always had been. 
And you’d always lost. Cause you never paid attention. 
Even now, as your life is in peril, you couldn’t help but think back to a moment in your past. Where distraction had gotten you in trouble. 
You couldn’t have been any older than thirteen. 
You must have been. Because your teacher was Mr. Kim. The teacher whose breath smelled like coffee and Newport cigarettes. A vile combination. 
You remembered so distinctly because in this particular instance, this breath blew into your face as his was about 10 centimeters away from yours.
He was scolding you, pretty severely, because you had been caught jotting down stories while in his math class. 
You were always doing that. Always doing the wrong thing at the wrong times. Always going left when everyone else was going right. And it almost always got you in trouble, but this time was different. This time was worse. 
Mr. Kim was adamant that you had done this one too many times. You remember he had said: 
“Y/N get your nose out of your book. Writing these silly little stories is going to get you nowhere. You need to learn to pay attention, young lady. Since you aren’t taking my warnings seriously, it may be time to escalate the matter”.
Your palms began to clam up, as you knew what this meant.
“I’ll need to contact your mother” 
At that moment everything seemed to move in slow motion. Panic began to set in as you knew a phone call to mother would be a step beyond a death sentence. 
“Take this note to the principal’s office, I shall be in shortly so we can organize a discussion with your mother” 
Your mother was not a nice woman. Not nice at all.
Nothing good would come of this and you knew what fate awaited you in the grim future. 
So, you did the only thing you knew how to do. You ran. You ran as fast as your little legs could carry you. 
Mr. Kim handed you the note and as soon as the door closed, you were off. 
You ran to the only place you knew solace. A woodland area behind your school. 
Your school was built in 1898. The old girl had seen some things. Horrific things. 
Back in the 1900s these woods were used as a hunting grounds. The older students would come out here and hunt deer and rabbits. Now, it was just a place where the older girls would come out here and smoke cigarettes at lunchtimes. The ones that were brave enough, that is. 
There was something dark about these woods. There was nothing about the woodlands that looked outwardly abnormal, there was just too much of it. Like a smile with too many teeth. Not to you though, to you it was freedom. Solace. Peace. 
Maybe you were just drawn to dark things. 
You ran deep into the coppices. Past the brook and beyond the abandoned mill. You perched yourself under the large oak tree. Inhaling and exhaling hard as the running mixed with the panic had your heartrate going a million miles per hour. But now you could rest at lease for a while. 
It’s funny really. Even when your life was in danger your mind wondered away. You guess Mr. Kim had every right to be concerned. 
“Y/N! Why Are you running, baby?!” 
Fuck. His voice sounded so close. Too close. 
His footsteps hammering on the same crushed, now blood-soaked, snow, leaves and moss-covered ground. 
“You know I’m going to catch up with you. Why are you doing this?! I thought you were happy with me!”
Christ. Why was he doing this?
“Look Y/N. I’m sorry if you weren’t comfortable, we can make changes baby just please come back.”
Through the trees you can make out a light ahead of you. Not much further to go. 
“Baby, we don’t have to tie you to the bed anymore! Please, Y/N, you’re still injured! It’s not safe for you to be running when your feet haven’t healed properly”
‘Because of you, you sick fuck’ you screamed inside your head. You wanted to scream at him but all your focus needed to be on running. 
“Just stop now and your punishment won’t be too bad” 
Oh god. He sounded just like her.
The earth and muck beneath your feet had changed to concrete. A road! You’ve don’t it, you reached the road. 
You try to take another step onto the cold wet asphalt but your feet fail you. True to his word, your feet hadn’t heeled yet and the adrenaline keeping your pain at bay had worn off. 
You collapsed on the floor, the dull pain in your ankles paralyzing you. 
You hear his footsteps and his heavy panting behind. In horror, you drag yourself further onto the road. You can’t give up; this can’t be the end. 
“I will say Y/N, I admire your spirit” his slightly exasperated voice still sounded sickly sweet. 
“I’ve always admired that about you. You never give up on anything. But yet you gave up on us. I don’t think that’s very fair, do you, my love?” he walks towards you, at a petrifyingly slow pace.  
This is it. You’ve lost. Certain this was your last moments; you close your eyes. A tear, you hadn’t released had been at bay rolled down your cheek. 
You listed to the birds in the distance and the soft patter of rain and you couldn’t help but think back again. You couldn’t help but think back to how you got here. How it came to be that you would die like this. 
At the hands of Jeon Jungkook. Your number one fan. 
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This is gonna be a wild ride! Im so happy to be back writing again~ Hope you all enjoy!
This fic is loosely based on one of my favourite movies: ‘Misery’
Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list 🤍
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joocomics · 1 month
Text
ಬ show me a thing or two
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pairing: drummer!hendery x fem!reader
genre: smut — mdni! wc: 2.6k
contains: strangers to lovers trope, sub!reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk, very light degradation (f!rec), pet names, oral sex (m!rec), hair pulling
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“50 bucks for a half hour lesson?” You gasp. “Can we do 35?”
“The price isn’t up to negotiation.” Hendery crosses his arms, leaning back against the desk. Not in an obnoxious way, but you can sense that the end of the conversation might be near. “It’s the average cost, I doubt you’ll find anything cheaper.”
The movements of his brows that you manage to peek at under the black cap he’s wearing show that he’s quite intrigued by the small amount of information you came here with.
“I don’t have that much money…” You mumble making sure your bottom lip puckers up.
You don’t have the money, nor the interest to learn drumming. Playing any kind of instrument has never crossed your mind ever, all you want is to get close to him, Hendery, - the hot guy who’s teaching your friend the drums twice a week. You made the big mistake to ask to take a quick look at his instagram account while your friend was texting him about their next lesson, and since then it was impossible to get him out of your head.
Hendery is exactly your type, from the way he dresses to the way he words his sentences and laughs in that boyish manner that makes your heart skip a beat. He plays in a band, speaks multiple languages, but most importantly - he’s single. Might as well give it a shot.
You walk over to the drum kit and let out a fake sigh while your middle finger traces the circular surface. You try to gather all the tricks of seduction you know in your mind in preparation to use them. You’ve won flirtatious games before, but the guys weren’t talented or smart as him. Nonetheless, you feel confident about this.
“That sucks, it’s always been one of my dreams.” You pick up a muffled sound that seems to come from his hands hiding into the pockets of his baggy jeans. He remains silent which is a sign for you take things a step further. “Can you show me a thing or two just so I can see what it’s like?”
You turn to face him. You’re already standing close to the seat and you can only hope you’re this close to getting what you really came for too. The corners of your glossy lips curl up with satisfaction after seeing Hendery’s features relax from the other side of the room.
“Please…” You extend your innocent smile just to add more to the effect you seem to already have on him.
It’s obvious that he’s going to agree, but there is no harm in letting him know how the word sounds from your mouth.
He takes a quick look at the door before turning to you again.
“Sure, take a seat.”
You push your hair back excited to feel him stand behind your back with a pair of drumsticks which you pretend to examine with interest.
“Now, both your hands should be in a similar position, like this, see?” Hendery grabs your wrists gently after you take the wooden sticks. He leans forward while doing so, and as he continues to speak, delightful shivers travel down your spine from the sudden physical contact. Every word of his brings a certain heat to your skin despite the context being not romantic at all. Looks like he just has an insane ability to make everything sound erotic. “Relax your grip, that’s it. You should be holding them lightly like a pencil.”
His slender fingers curl yours around the end of the sticks as he keeps on talking about things you don’t pay attention to anymore.
He shows you a few more tricks that you repeat after him clumsily; a few more that you forget about the moment he explains them to you - you make sure to nod like there’s no such thing though.
When it’s finally over, you return the drumsticks and Hendery puts them aside.
“Got it?” He asks behind you.
Is that genuine curiosity that you hear in his voice?
You stand up and after turning around, so close to him, he doesn’t move a bone. You notice that his cap is flipped backwards, and now you’re able to see his captivating features perfectly clear; seems like he’s really growing out his chestnut colored hair like he mentioned in one of his older social media posts.
“It’s more difficult than I thought, but yeah I think I got it.”
You stare at each other for a moment until he shifts his gaze from your eyes to your lips only to repeat the same thing again, making you reminisce about his touch already.
By the new tense look on his face you can tell he misses it too.
“I should pay you for your time,” you speak at once. “It was really nice of you to do that for me.”
Hendery instantly catches the seductive ring in your tone, and he gulps, swallowing it as if it’s a drop of honey. Something in the atmosphere keeps shifting, and you can both feel it at the same time.
He takes a step closer first, then you follow his lead by doing the same. It results into his arm wrapping around your waist.
Before you know it, your back is pressed against the wall and Hendery’s tongue sneaks through his lips, earning a taste of the sweet flavour of your lipgloss.
Your whole body welcomes him. Your mouth opens to invite his tongue; your legs separate to make room for his knee; your hands tug on his shirt to feel him as close as possible while you try to keep your breathing normal and your heartbeat steady. But it’s hard. The more contact you have with him, the bigger your cravings grow, and after he brakes the kiss you accidentally whine not wanting any of this to stop.
“How?” The question slips through his popular teasing smile as his hand takes a hold of your jaw.
Answering is pointless when your lips wrap hungrily around his thumb after he lets it glide towards the corner of your mouth. You suck it up and down and he observes with eyes heavy from lust.
“I’d like that,” he almost whispers. He’s so entranced by your scrunched lips that he doesn’t even pay attention to your eager fingers unzipping his pants. “You got a pretty mouth. Will it be able to take me the way I want though?” He tugs your bottom lip while slowly taking out his thumb. “Seems small to me, doll.”
He is bigger than you thought; and bigger than the previous ones you’ve had. Despite the black fabric of his boxers that are hiding his erection you can still tell the prominent size by rubbing your palm against it.
“My mouth might be small, but I know how to use it well.”
Hendery can only grin at your confidence.
You drop on your knees and his figure now hovers over you just the way you imagined it would.
His hand rests on top of your head, allowing its fingers to grab onto the roots of your hair as your flat tongue licks a long stripe - slowly with the perfect amount of pressure. The small dark stain that must be caused by his leaking pre cum grabs your attention and you give the spot an open mouthed kiss before resuming to tease him by rubbing your mouth and chin against his hard on.
“Shit—“ Hendery drags out a sigh just as he twitches against your cheek for the first time. His tangled into your hair fingers press you harder into his crotch. “So cock hungry, aren’t you?”
Your tongue keeps gliding onto his clothed dick only to double his frustrations.
“You’re so fuckin’ hot.” He pulls you back by dragging your hair, not intensely, because he’s not yet sure if that’s what you’re into, but not extra gentle either. “Where did you come from?”
The wider your smile gets as his question repeats itself in your mind, the more his fades away, because he genuinely wants to know.
“Less talking,” you utter staring back into his eyes. Before you came here you thought this would scare you, but fear is far from what you feel in this moment. “For now.”
You use this opportunity to finally tug Hendery’s underwear down and make the first strokes around his thick length that instantly wets your mouth with desire the moment it reveals in front of you.
Hendery sighs deeply from delight as both of you stare at the seductive twists of your hand. Your fist wraps so nicely, squeezing just the way he likes it, and he cannot believe his luck as he watches you roll your tongue over his slit.
The sweet gloss is completely erased because of his underwear, he notices. Your lips don’t sparkle anymore, instead, they’re a hot shade of red and puffy from the intense kissing and rubbing against his cock.
This sight of you turns him on even more.
The warm rush in his core doubles as you spread the transparent essence that’s oozing out of his flushed tip after you got a taste of it. In this moment, it only gets more difficult for him to control his emotions and soon enough the feeling forces a powerful moan to escape his throat.
“You’re good, fuck—“ His jaw stays open after you invite him into your mouth. Your soft lips stretch then close around half of his length while your familiar tongue glues to his skin. “Holy shit—“ It feels even better when it’s not through his clothes. “That’s it, pretty girl…“
Gradually, in a nice steady pace, you begin to swallow more and more of his size, feeling every vein and drop of salty precum on your tongue.
Hendery’s hand is at the back of your skull, helping you out by guiding you back and forth as his arousing moans echo through out the practice room. He doesn’t seem to realise how vocal he is, but you like it more that way, and you don’t stop to think if his sounds are slipping through the walls right into the hallway of the building. His voice elevates after you succeed at taking him down your throat, and you can’t resist the urge to look up with glossy eyes, as his hips thrust forward, craving to feel as much from your warm tight throat as possible. Having this sight of him hovering over you with his attractive face contorted in pleasure makes the delight in your tummy swirl like crazy.
“Fuck, baby—“ Hendery groans once again as you slowly pull back after gargling around him for a moment. “You really do know how to use that mouth, huh?” He smirks at your drooling mouth and your obvious inability to give an answer.
“Tell me your name,” he looks down, waiting for your doe eyes to meet his.
He lifts your chin up to steal your attention away from his slick cock. His other veiny hand is slowly tugging at his base and it’s unbelievable how easily that distracts you from everything including the puddle of saliva on the floor.
“Y/N.”
You can feel the burning soreness still spreading in your mouth as you speak out the letters. You feel some wetness coming inside your neckline.
Your name rolls off Hendery’s tongue as he repeats it once, then twice while you pull your panties to the side.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he notes, sitting down on the chair where you were minutes ago “practicing”.
You dismiss the cliché line, thinking only about what’s about to happen after you strip him from his shirt.
Enjoying the sight of his hanging mouth, you gasp, holding carefully onto his knees for support.
“Oh, God—“ Your voice fades away as Hendery’s firm grip on your lower waist helps you sink all the way down on his dripping cock. “Hen—“
“C’mon, baby,” his fingers sink into your skin while his grasping bounces you up and down with ease. “Fuck, you didn’t say you’re this fuckin’ tight…” His airy chuckle sticks to your warm neck as he leans in to kiss it.
Your one hand drowns into his soft hair; his hat has been tossed on the floor long ago, and you get to pull it as hard as you need as your body feels like it’s melting in his arms from how amazing all of this stimulates you.
“Can…” you mumble out of breath, “c-can someone hear us?”
Hendery stops the movements of his wet lips for a second, and after mumbling back a shaky “yeah, probably”, he continues to make out with your neck. Soon enough a sharp breath slips through his bites, because of a stronger clench that comes from your gripping walls upon hearing his response.
You’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to reply right away, especially after his hands start kneading on your ass cheeks. Every little thing he does to you only adds to your arousal, pushing you closer towards your climax, and forming any kind of thoughts becomes a challenge.
“Can t-they… can we get c-caught?”
The only answer you receive is Hendery’s intensifying moans, sticking hot against your flesh. His hands are sticking to you too, roaming curiously every little place where there’s exposure to your sweating skin. His grip is growing rougher as you now roll your hips and he cannot resist the urge to speed them up; both of you are so close you cannot slow down even for a second.
“Hendery—“ You mewl. He still hasn’t answered your question.
“I forgot to lock the door.” He admits in one quick heavy breath.
You cuss quietly before biting your lip. You can’t start being nervous about getting caught now.
“Fuck, it feels so good,” you gasp.
Hendery grabs your face with his hand, the tip of his fingers dig into your cheeks as he kisses your lips with an electrifying intensity.
You focus on this undeniably ecstatic thrill. It automatically blocks your mind, and all you’re able to comprehend is the feeling of his lips, and how the burning tangling sensation beneath throbs with each rhythmic move of your hips.
Soon enough, Hendery pulls out in a rush and you quickly leave his lap to kneel down. With an open mouth and eyes closed shut you anticipate the moment he’s going to let go and paint your face.
His last moan lasts long and is the hottest sound you’ve ever heard in your life; low and emotional from the deepest part of his throat. His cum lands warm and thick all over your skin and tongue.
There’s a drop right on the corner of your mouth that you lick after taking it with your finger.
Hendery leans back into the chair as his overwhelmed panting fills the small room. You realise that he looks almost nothing to how he looked when you arrived here as you observe him under the daylight which comes through the small window behind him, reflecting onto his pale bare skin. When you entered the room earlier he was so put together; his clothes were neat without a single crease, his hair - all in tact behind his ears and held in place by the stylish hat. Now, his face has a pinkish glow, his hair is messy with a few strands sticking to his glistening forehead. His clothes are scattered in different corners of the room.
Fucked out, he's even more madly attractive.
“Will you come back?” He asks. A note of intrigue and hope causes a tilt in his voice. His sparkling eyes move in your direction as you walk towards the door.
“To be honest, drumming turned out to be kind of boring.” You catch his gaze which shows you that he’s not really sure how to react to that. But a sign of relief quickly settles into it once you add: “But you’re not.”
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! please do not repost, copy or translate my works
! keep in mind english is not my first language, i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed
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harrysbelovedd · 5 months
Text
carnival date [rafe cameron]
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pairing - rafe cameron x reader
summary - you get sick of rafe playing hard to get, so you decide to hit him where it hurts.
warnings - swearing, angst/fluff
Lights shone brightly below us, a large teddy bear sitting between us. As the ferris wheel begins to approach the boardwalk ground, I look over at JJ. I smile lovingly–hoping my acting is believable. 
“Is he looking?” I whisper through clenched teeth. 
JJ’s eyes peer down, spotting a furious Rafe standing on the ground, smoke practically fuming out of his ears. His strong arms cross over his broad chest, veins in his hands protruding out of anger as he clenches his fists.
“Oh he’s looking, and I think–correct me if I’m wrong–he is going to kill me and throw my body off the pier once we got off this fuckin’ thing.” He widens his eyes, nodding his head toward the man I’m really here for.
“Possibly,” I shrug, “Don’t worry I’ll put in a good word, you should lock your doors though.” I warn, playfully. Except just to be safe, JJ probably should triple check his locks tonight. Rafe’s jealousy is unexplainable. But that’s what he gets for thinking he can play hard to get with me.
Rafe and I have been playing this game for months, he shows his interest in me on a drunken night, then the next morning acts like I don’t exist. He knows that I know how he feels, and I’m sure he knows how I feel. Today, I grew sick and tired of him acting like a child. So, I decided to use the one sure-fire way I could get him to fess up.
Jealousy.
I don’t hang out with the pogues much, but JJ Maybank happened to owe me a favor. A couple weeks ago he snuck into Midsummers trying to find some free booze. So, when security caught him, I covered for him and told him he owed me. So, here we are. Pretending to be on a date to make Rafe jealous.
Soon enough, the ferris wheel came to a stop. JJ stood up, grabbing my hand and the teddy bear as we hopped off the ride. Rafe now stands with Topper and Kelce, pretending to be part of their conversation. But really, his eyes are purely on JJ and I. 
“Kiss me, JJ.”
His eyes widen, “Woah I-”
“Please, it’ll set him off and he’ll come over here, trust me.” I beg.
He rolls his eyes, “Alright but we’re even after this.”
He leans in, his calloused palm holding my cheek, pulling me closer. My eyes flick down to his lips and before we even have the chance to actually kiss–
“Yo, Maybank!” 
My lips curl into a smirk at his voice. Just like clockwork.
We both turn to see the brooding man walking toward us. His gaze is lethal, every other person on the boardwalk making way for Rafe Cameron. His jaw clenches, his fists balling by his sides. 
When he reaches us, he chuckles menacingly, “This is cute. I don’t give you attention so you go for the fuckin’ pogue?”
I scoff, “No, JJ just has the emotional maturity of an adult who’s able to actually understand his feelings and act on them.”
I hear JJ chuckle next to me, probably never expecting to hear the words “emotional maturity” and “JJ” in the same sentence. 
“He’s gonna treat you like shit, y’know that right? He’ll use you for what he needs then he’ll toss you aside,” He argues, turning toward JJ. “And when that happens you better watch your fuckin’ back JJ. You hurt her, I’ll kill you.” He seethes. 
I push JJ back, hopefully sending him the signal to leave before Rafe does something stupid. “And you’d do any better?” I scoff, “I see the girls you bring to Tannyhill and never fucking speak to again. I stopped wasting my time the second I realized you’d do the same to me.”
His anger stops at my words, he steps closer to me. “Do you really believe that? They weren’t you! I’ve been so terrified of hurting you I’ve been trying to protect you from myself. They were nothing.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?” I whisper, my fingers tugging at the hem of my top.
“Because–” He hesitates, “I’m stupid. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And I’m just stupid.”
“You are stupid,” I chuckle. 
He smiles, his head dipping down to meet my line of sight. His fingers push my hair behind my ear, “So can I kiss you now? Your date ditched.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t a real date,” I smirk.
“Oh you’re just as jealous and fucked up as me, huh baby?”
I grin as he pulls my face toward him in his palm, smashing his lips against mine.
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loving-barnes · 8 months
Text
LOGAN HOWLETT - 'HELL'
A/N: And here I am, still writing and I am here for it. I am actually trying a lot here.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning: mentions of blood and torture
Summary: Y/N shares how she escaped 'hell'.
Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story includes mentions of abuse.
Words: 4300+
Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.
A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter One
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LOGAN HOWLETT - 'HELL'
Y/N was lying on the grass, enjoying the warm sunlight rays. Her right hand was in the air as she tried to make the force come out in a ball-shaped form. She finally made some progress.
Charles helped her train in his office. He aimed to teach her to make a protective shield around another person. Two weeks in, she made some progress. But the goal was still far away. On the other hand, she did learn something new. 
The ball-shaped forcefields were bewitching. Y/N could admire her power up close. It was a thin blue layer of radiant energy with a hint of silver sparkles. Beautiful. She hoped to get better and become useful. Now, she had the chance after all those years. It brought tears to her eyes for many reasons. 
If only I could get you out. 
The nightmares appeared every night. They changed, playing twisted games in her sleep. It was hard to close her eyes. Her past, her present, it all got mixed. They were suffocating her. And his face kept coming back to her. 
“How’s it going with her training?” Hank asked the Professor. He was standing at the window, watching Y/N in the distance from the office. 
Some of the teachers, the X-Men, were present, discussing the newest addition. The last one who entered the conversation was Logan, smoking his cigar. One look from the Professor, and he extinguished it against his palm. He gritted his teeth when he felt the burning sensation on his palm.
“She’s making progress,” said Charles with a smile. “We still have a lot of work to do.”
Storm walked to a window, watching the kids enjoy the sunny afternoon outside. And there, far away, she noticed Y/N practising her little forcefields. “Her ability is convenient, powerful. She would be great on missions.” 
“That is the plan. I want Y/N to be able to protect other people, too. She can create the forcefield around herself and in smaller forms. It might take us more time before she reaches her goal,” said Charles. 
“I don’t like her,” Scott confessed to them. “There’s something off about her.” Everyone’s eyes were on him. 
“What, that she doesn’t want to let anyone in because she doesn’t trust easily?” Storm glared at her friend. 
“She’s not telling us something.” 
“Would you tell your life story to a group of strangers you know for two weeks?” Kitty added. “If there is something off about her, the Professor would tell us.” 
Charles sighed and turned to his friends. “There is something I need you all to know.” 
“He, there it is,” Scott grinned. 
That single sentence got everyone’s attention. Charles wheeled into the middle of the room, eyes looking at every person present. Logan frowned. Storm was intrigued, and others kept their faces neutral. 
“Years ago, when I had been searching for more mutants, I managed to find Y/N. At that time, she was a teen who happened to discover her mutation. The plan was to bring her here. I wanted to send Hank to get her.”
“Why didn’t you?” Logan asked. 
The Professor sighed. “She kept slipping off.” 
“What do you mean?” Jean asked, confused. 
“When I wanted to find her location, she was nowhere to be found. Not as a mutant or a human,” Charles explained. “I thought she died. And then, months later, I stumbled upon her again. As I tried to reach her, she slipped again.”
“Oh, right,” Hank said. “I remember you thought there was something wrong with Cerebro.” 
“The Cerebro was fine. Until this day, I have no idea how it kept happening.” 
“So, she’s a telepath?” Bobby asked. 
Charles shook his head. “There was a time when I believed she was. It would make perfect sense. Only strong telepaths can shut their minds. That would explain why I couldn’t reach her.” 
“So, when you saw her the first time since Logan brought her, you knew who she was. You didn’t need to read her mind?” Storm chimed in. Her eyes kept staring at the Professor.
“That is true. However,” Charles turned to face Logan. “The fact that you found her was a mere coincidence. You two happened to be in the right place at the right time.” 
He didn’t comment on it, only shook his head in disbelief. “Is that all, Charles? Or is there more to this story?” He suspected that the Professor wasn’t telling them the whole truth. 
“This is all you need to know, now.” 
Groans echoed around the office. That answer didn’t bring enough satisfaction. What was he not telling them? Logan was ready to push his buttons. He needed to know more. Everyone deserved the truth. With a sigh, he stood back. “Why so mysterious?” 
“I will tell you more once I have more answers,” said Charles calmly. “For now, all we need to do is to help her train. She wants to be better. She suffered enough, and she wants to turn her life upside down.” 
“She asked you not to read her mind,” Jean raised a brow. 
“I don’t need to read her mind. We talk a lot when I teach her. I promised not to look in. When I met her, it all came screaming at me. All you need to know is I trust her.”
Scott scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s it?”
The meeting ended shortly after that. Everyone dispersed around the school. Logan’s legs brought him outside, his eyes quickly finding the young woman far away, resting on the grass. 
For the last two weeks, he didn’t talk to her much or see her for that matter. He observed from afar. Logan noticed how she started to open up to some of his friends. She tried to get to know each member of the school. Storm, Kitty and Rogue spent most of their time with her. With them, she was able to laugh freely and smile. Damn, that smile. He wanted to see it more.
He frowned. Why did he think that?
He saved her ass, and now she felt like a magnet. He tried to resist, but it was hard. Would it be that bad to know her more? He brought her here, where he promised she’d be safe. And from what he had learnt, Charles knew about her existence for a long time. 
Sighing, he moved forward. He took out the cigar that he hadn’t finished and smoked on his way to her. His eyes lingered on her body, eyeing her from head to toe. Compared to their first unexpected meeting, she seemed relaxed and happy. The bruises were gone. Only faint scratch marks remained.
Her hand was still in the air, creating small forcefields. The need to talk to her got stronger.  As if she were a water that would extinguish Logan’s thirst. Fuck, he wanted to know her more. 
“Hey, kid. How’s the trainin’ going?” he asked when he was close enough for her to hear him. 
Y/N turned her head to the side, eyes locking with his. “It’s fine, I guess,” she said with a fleeting smile. “I am trying to figure out how to make a forcefield around another person,” she explained. 
“Any luck?” he leaned against the nearest tree. He held the cigar with his fingers.
“No,” she sat up. “I got better at creating it in the shape of a ball. It still does glitch. But it’s a step forward. If only I knew how to project it around another person.” 
“It cannot be that hard,” he raised a brow. “It looks so easy.” 
She laughed at that. “If only. It requires a lot of concentration and energy. I can protect a person if they are next to me. I can wrap us into the forcefield. That’s about it.” 
A gentle smile appeared on Logan’s face. “Like you did when I took you out of that dive bar.” 
Her eyes widen. “Oh yeah,” she nodded. “I forgot about that. It was wild. I remember fragments of that day. Shit, the last days before you brought me here are kind of hazy.” She stood up from the grass and wiped off her lower back and ass. 
Logan’s eyes followed her every move. “Wanna walk with me?” the question was out before he could think about it. Even he was surprised he had asked that.
“Sure,” she nodded. “I wanted to explore the estate a little more.” 
Side by side, they walked away from the school and the noise. The estate reminded her of a gigantic park filled with trees, surrounded by nature and peace. She noticed there were well-trodden pathways. The students must have walked around the place many times.
“How did you get to that bar anyway?” he had to ask. 
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I kept walking until my feet brought me there. All I knew was to get as far away as possible.” 
He took a deep breath. “What happened to you?” 
Y/N bit her lower lip and looked somewhere away. “Um,” she hesitated. Was it wise to share it already? “I escaped a lab. I was a guinea pig for five years,” she admitted. 
“What?” It was hard to believe what she said. Why was he so surprised? He had his suspicion about this before.
“Yeah,” her eyes were focused on the ground, ashamed of the story. “I’m surprised they didn’t kill me. Five years to keep a mutant for an experiment is a long time. Before you ask, I have no idea how I managed to survive the torture and imprisonment for that long. Those years are a blur.” 
“Shit,” he sighed. “Sounds like a hell of a life.”
Y/N lifted her head, scanning Logan’s face. “The Professor didn’t say anything to you?” When he shook his head, she was impressed. “And here I thought you would already know about everything.” 
“It’s your story to tell, Y/N. It’s up to you if you want to share it with us,” said Logan. 
Out of nowhere, she started to giggle. Logan didn’t understand what was funny. “You know, you don’t seem that kind of a guy who does this a lot. But it’s nice.” 
“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes. He took another drag of the cigar. And Y/N laughed a little more. “When did you discover your mutation?” 
The smile disappeared. “I was around fifteen when it happened,” Y/N replied. “And it started a life full of misery and darkness.” One of her hands reached for a tree, mapping its texture with her fingertips. After all those years locked up in a lab, she never thought she would feel nature under her hands again. 
Logan didn’t question further. He noticed it was a heavy topic for her. She wasn’t ready to give him the details. Somehow, Logan felt he was the only person, except Charles, who got information about her past. 
“What is your mutation?” It was her turn to ask questions. She wanted to know more about Logan. Even though his rough exterior told the story of a withdrawn, grumpy man, he had the softest eyes. Were they green? They seemed like it. 
They stopped walking. Logan turned to her and brought his hand to his chest. When he closed it, three metal blades slid out of his skin. 
Y/N’s mouth opened. “Shit,” she cursed. “Does it hurt?” 
“Every time. I’m used to it by now,” Logan said. “They are made of adamantium.”
“Adamantium?” 
“One of the strongest metals on Earth.” 
Her fingers reached to the claws. Logan’s eyes followed her moves. She wanted to touch them. Before she could, she put her hand away. “Sorry, it’s just fascinating.” 
Logan’s heart skipped a beat. “Well, that’s a first,” he commented. “No one said anything like that before.” 
“I’m sorry,” she took a step back. “I didn’t want to overstep. Never had much opportunity to admire other mutations.” 
“It’s fine.” The claws retracted into his skin. Y/N’s eyes noticed the wounds instantly close and disappear. Her hands quickly reached for his hand, fingers caressing the spots where the lesions would be. 
Logan couldn’t believe what he had witnessed. It’s been a while since he felt such a gentle touch on his skin. Her hands were soft and delicate. He cleared his throat. “I heal quickly. In a matter of seconds,” he explained before she could ask. 
Her eyes lingered on his hand until she realised what she was doing. “Oh, sorry,” she let him go and hid her hands behind her back. “That was rude. I am so sorry.” 
She made him feel things he hadn’t experienced in a long time. It made him flustered. “That’s okay, kid.” 
The intense moment ended, and they moved forward. Y/N’s face was burning hot, embarrassed by what she did. Her mind focused on the trees and the pleasant weather around them. The air was warm even though it was autumn. The leaves were sparkling with a range of colours, coming from green to yellow. Some of them were red. It was her favourite season of the year.
“I’ve heard you save mutant children,” she changed the topic as they approached the school grounds. 
“Charles finds them, and some of us would collect them,” he explained. “I was on a mission to get a child that needed our help. Unfortunately, it was a failure. The facility was a trap. I was glad I got out. Later that night, I stumbled upon you.” 
Y/N pressed a hand against her chest. “What facility?”
“The one hidden in Salem,” he replied. “Why?” 
Y/N felt as if her soul left her body. All colour drained from her face. “Oh god,” she brushed her fingers into her hair. “It’s my fault,” and then she hid her face in her palms. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he turned his body to her. “What are you sayin’ there, kid?” 
It took her three deep breaths to look him in the eye. He wasn’t angry. It looked like he was concerned. “I was locked there, in the lab, for some time. I escaped a few days before we met.” Panic bubbled inside of her. “I know who you were looking for. I know the kid.” 
That night, that moment, it all came rushing back. It was like a movie, reflecting in front of her eyes. She felt it all: the pain, the horror happening in front of her eyes. She knew the child. He helped her escape. And she couldn’t take him with her. His screams echoed inside her mind. 
Logan gripped her shoulders. “Y/N, look at me.” He said her name for the first time. That did the trick, and she looked up, eyes meeting his. “There you go. Take a deep breath.” He could see she was listening.
“I have to tell you what happened,” she whispered. “You need to know. It’s my fault you went to a trap.”
Logan brought her inside the school. His hands rested on her shoulders as he walked with her through the hallway. When something happened, all the teachers would gather around immediately. Professor X would call them to his office. 
He helped Y/N take a seat on an armchair. A bottle of water appeared in front of her. It was levitating in the air. It was Jean’s doing. 
“What’s going on?” Hank was the last one coming inside, closing the door behind him. He had a white lab coat on him, and his glasses were on the tip of his nose.
“This better be good,” Scott scoffed. His hands were wrapped around Jean’s shoulders, holding her close. 
“Stop being a dick, dude,” Remy scowled. “Keep your mind shut.”
Y/N glared at Scott. He was the only person who didn’t sit right with her. That’s why, most of the time, she would ignore him. Luckily, he was sweet to Jean. 
She grabbed the floating water bottle and took a sip. “Logan told me about the failed mission,” Y/N started to talk. Her voice was low and timid. “He told me he went there to get out a child. He went to a facility that was in Salem - the same place where they held me.” 
Charles tilted his head, listening carefully. His face remained neutral. No one could read what he thought.
“I know the kid,” she told them. “His whole body can stretch as he wishes.” 
“Elasticity,” Hank stated.
“How did you escape?” Kitty’s voice interrupted the stream of Y/N’s thoughts. 
“There were five of us locked in that lab. We were in cells designed to suppress our mutations. It made sure we wouldn’t harm anyone or try to escape. That changed when they brought in JJ.” 
“JJ?” Logan questioned that name. 
“Jerome Junior,” she explained. “For an eleven-year-old, he was cunning. Because he was the youngest, he had the most energy. The rest of us were barely holding on. 
“Never underestimate a child. That’s the greatest advice I’ve learnt in there. I don’t know what happened or how he did it, but the doors to our cells opened. Somehow, he was able to get us out. That’s when hell on Earth started. To get out, we destroyed the place.” 
Y/N could feel the smell of chemicals and fire around her. As if she was back there, trying to get out of prison. 
The pain in her body was excruciating. After all those years of experiments and torture, she was almost free.
There were bodies on the floor - killed guards and scientists as well as two other mutants who shared the hell with her. They got them before she could put a forcefield out to protect them. So much blood was on her hands and face. When she looked down, there were red puddles. The smell was nauseating. 
“Let’s go,” one of the mutants shouted. The man was bleeding from his thigh and arm. 
“Where’s JJ?” Y/N asked, looking for the kid. She lost him during the fight. “I’m not leaving him here.” 
“We don’t have time to get the kid. They’ll kill us if we don’t leave!”
She was turning around, trying to find a way to get to him. “I said I am not leaving!” 
“Fuck this, I’m out,” said the mutant and fled the scene without anyone else. 
Limping, Y/N ran out of the destroyed lab and walked through the hallways until she found a swarm of guards holding the child. Guns pressed against the boy’s head as they put a collar on his neck. It beeped once, and a tiny light turned green.
JJ’s eyes found Y/N standing on the other side of the room. He did one last thing before they packed him into a truck - he shook his head. It was a sign for her to leave. Her vision blurred as tears hit her eyes. The boy got them out, and she couldn’t save him. 
“I tried to get him, save him, but they took him away,” her voice broke. She let the tears fall. “He was eleven, for fuck’s sake. He somehow got us out. I wanted to do the same thing for him, and I couldn’t.” 
“How do you know it was him?” Jean asked. 
Y/N thought back, trying to get to the point when she realised he opened the cells. “I remember him stretching his fingers. He must have found a trigger on the table that opened the doors.”
Ororo reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You did your best. You tried.” 
“It’s not enough,” she shook her head. “Even now, I feel like a traitor.” The story was not over. “When I left the building, I wandered for a few days,” she continued. “I got some old clothes and hid everywhere - in the woods, old buildings. Without energy, I happened to injure myself more. I even took a fall before I found the dive bar. My body was in pain, my head a mess, and I don’t remember much when Logan got me out.” 
Silence spread around them. They all let the information sink in.
“When I came to the facility,” Logan started to talk. The attention was on him. “Many soldiers were guarding the place like their own eyes. They were ready to kill anyone who approached the building. I managed to get in but never got far away,” said Logan. “The place was a mess. As if a bomb exploded inside.” 
“It doesn’t make sense,” Kitty spoke up. “Why would they keep the place highly secured if it got damaged and took the child away? Think about it. Maybe they’ll use it as a cover-up. No one would think that the lab was still active.” 
“Kitty’s right,” said Bobby. “In the end, there are only two options. Either they did take him away, or he’s there, well hidden from the world.”
“They did it to evoke confusion,” Jean added to the conversation. 
“Scott, Jean, try to find as much information as possible about the facility in Salem. We’ll be better prepared to take him out of there,” Charles gave instructions.
Y/N jumped on her feet, letting the water bottle drop on the floor. “I’ll go with you.” All eyes were back on her.”I have to get him out.”
“You need to train more,” said Scott strictly. His hands fell off Jean. “You’ve been here for what two weeks? Forget about it. You’re not going on this mission.” 
“Mind your tone, Scotty,” Logan warned him with a snarl. 
“She doesn’t know how to fight or use her ability. She’s a newbie, a trainee. I will not put anyone’s life in danger because of her,” he pushed himself from Jean and approached Y/N. “If we go to get the boy, she’s staying here. Period.” 
Logan was close behind Y/N, ready to step in. But she stood her ground, not afraid of the Cyclops.
Jean reached for Scott’s shoulder. “That’s enough, Scott.”
Y/N approached Scott with one long step, glaring at him. “I survived a lot of things in my life. You don’t know what I am capable of, so don’t underestimate me, Cyclops. And don’t be a dick. I’ve never been rude to you, never did anything to you. So don’t raise your voice at me. I am not afraid of you.” 
“Oh yeah?” he challenged her. “You better start talking about your past life then. We know nothing about you.” 
Her fists clenched hard until her knuckles were white. There was a lot of anger building inside of her. And it showed. The forcefield started to glitch around her. 
“You can’t even control your power, Y/N,” Scott mocked her. “Look what you are doing.” 
“Y/N, please, calm down,” said Charles calmly. “Same goes for you, Scott.” 
She closed her eyes and took a step back, relaxing her posture. She knew better than to get riled up. When her blood pressure lowered, she looked at Scott again, shaking her head in disbelief. What a dick!
Turning on her heel, Y/N left the office without another word. Her walk was brisk, taking long steps to be outside as soon as possible. Of course, there would be a person who would make her freedom difficult. 
I will get you out. 
She wrapped her arms around herself and walked through the driveway to the estate’s main gate. She didn’t want to leave. She needed to walk and think. 
Y/N wanted to get little JJ out of that hellhole before it was too late. Fear crawled through her back, tapping on her head. What if they kill him before they get there? He saved her life. He helped her escape. It’s her turn to return the favour and secure him a better life here in a school for mutants. 
There was another thing that drove her to save the boy. But she didn’t want to open that door. After all those years, it was painful to think about it. 
Fucking bitch! How could you?! Cries were echoing in her mind. Psycho! Murderer! 
“Y/N,” she heard Logan’s voice behind her. That made her halt and sigh. “You okay?” 
She pressed the bridge of her nose. “Yes,” she said. 
“You are full of shit, ya know that?” he laughed. “Just admit that you are pissed.”
She spun around. Her eyes could kill. “I’ll get JJ with or without help. I don’t give a shit what you say. I will be the one who will get him out of that place.” 
“I know,” Logan nodded, understanding. “I won’t be the one who’ll stop you. If I were you, I’d do the same thing. And I would  punch Scott in the face.” 
She couldn’t help but giggle. “You have your way with words, Logan.” 
“I was thinking about becoming a motivational speaker,” he shrugged and smiled at her when he made her laugh again. “Bobby was right. We only have two options, and we must prepare before we leave to get the kid. I was there. I saw how many guards were securing the facility. One or two people won’t do it. We need a strategy.” 
“All I want is to help, get him out of there so he can have a better life than I ever had. I don’t want him to experience that much torture. I need…” she started to choke on words. “I need…” Tears escaped her eyes as she felt the pain inside her soul. Was this a panic attack? Her heart was beating fast. The world was crumbling down. 
Logan was quick enough to close the distance. His hands found her shoulders. “We will get him out. You hear me, bub? I can’t tell you when. We must prepare for the mission and gather information. We won’t make it far without a strategy.” 
She gripped his flannel shirt tightly, holding for dear life. “I worry he’ll be dead.”
He shook his head. “You said he was cunning. He’ll find a way to survive.” Without thinking, he pressed her body against his, holding her. “While we are planning, you’ll be training your power and how to fight.” 
She closed her teary eyes. As much as the hug was unexpected, it was comforting. “Promise me I’ll go with you.” 
Logan nodded twice. “I promise.”
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hyperfixat · 9 months
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MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! here’s the first chapter to a new multi part series i’m working on! it’s an isekai of honkai star rail. (sahsrau, sort of…?) ANYWAY!! enjoy,,, updates will be. idk maybe once a month so i don’t get stressed about pumping out chapters… this baby has been baking for a few months in the drafts already LMAO. likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3 and my reqs are perpetually open! 4.1K words.
next >
** Written PRE 1.4 – Any mentions of new characters is pure speculation and or headcannons.
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Your dailys are finished and there’s no new content, so you decide to look for some hidden quests throughout the map. You’re sure you’ve collected all the chests on the Herta Space Station, but you use a teleport waypoint there anyway. Caelus (although that is not what you have named them,) sprints under your control, running against the invisible wall separating available land from unavailable land.
You click aimlessly, your character summoning their weapon of choice, a bat in this case, and attacking the blank divider. They hit it a few times, the animation sparking as they attacked the blank. It’s not like you’re expecting something to happen, although a person can hope, but then something does happen.
The office around you, where you’re playing on your PC blurs. You attempt to clear your vision with a few harsh blinks, but your vision only gets worse. It’s golden tunnel vision to your computer screen, the Trailblazer isn’t there, oddly enough, but that doesn’t quite matter at the moment, as you feel the world around you warp. Your body and soul, something you weren't even aware of, are pulled, nay sucked, into your screen. The screen, something that should be impermeable, gives way like nothing, like air.
Something as large as the human body should not be able to fit through your screen, but you do. Somehow you do.
It’s warm and hot and cold and freeing as it is oppressive.
You’re disoriented and confused, and for some reason you know you’re no longer alone and in your office.
Tentatively you allow yourself to move and lift your head. Instead of being seated on your desk chair, you’ve fallen into a heap in… is this one of the rooms in the Supply Zone? That.. that cannot be right. That’s in a video game and this is real life.
…Right?
What are you thinking about?! Of course this is real life, just a dream, yes, a dream. What are they called, lucid dreams? That makes sense, you’re lucid dreaming, even if you’ve never had one before, you’re lucid dreaming.
Well if you’re lucid dreaming, maybe you can have some fun? What do you do?
Fuck, you aren’t prepared for this.
Before you can think of something good someone moseys into the modern-style storage room you're in. Oh, hey, it’s the main character of Honkai: Star Rail, the game you were playing before falling into this lucid state. You want to greet them; you should greet them.
Wait, do you call them Caelus or the name you put into the game? Ah, wait, can you pause this?
“Huh? What are you doing in here?” Their voice sounds… well just like it does in game.
You hesitate, unsure of how to answer because you don’t know what you’re doing here. They wait for a reply, head tilting cutely as you think of a comprehensible answer.
“I’m… not sure.” You draw out the sentence as if by prolonging the words a better answer would appear.
Caelus walks closer to you, moving from the doorway to stand only a foot away holding out their hand to help you up.
“Are you lost? What part of the base are you stationed at? I know this place really well, I can help you find where you belong.” The confidence in their voice wanes, “Well, by your clothes…” their brow creases “are you from here?”
“Uh, I don’t, I don't know.”
They purse their lips, head tilting as they think. “Well, I don’t know who I should bring you to. You’re not a threat, at least not yet. Herta would be my first guess, but I don’t like her, and she might not even care or respond.” Another moment as they ponder, “let’s go find Mr Yang. He might be able to help jog your memory, or find out where you’re supposed to be.”
“Okay.” The walk through the station feels like a fever dream, though this is a dream, so that makes sense.
Caelus pulls open the heavy metal door to the Astral Express and holds out a hand to help you climb up inside. They don’t let go of your hand as you enter the passenger cabin.
“Mr Yang?” They call out, fingers readjusting over your own. Their hand is cool and comforting, realistic for a dream.
Welt Yang, sitting on the red curving couch looks up, setting down his book. His eyebrows raise when he sees that Caelus is not alone and is towing along a strange person dressed in even stranger clothes.
“Yes, Caelus? What do you need?” His eyes flicker between your faces before settling on Caelus’.
“This person, ah what’s your name?” They flush a pretty pink and turn to you, fingers flexing nervously around yours. When you give it to them, they repeat it aloud to Welt. “Is lost. How do we help them?”
Welt Yang frowns, a crease denting his forehead and he adjusts his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as he gives a low, thoughtful hum.
“What did Madam Herta say? You found them on her vessel.” Caleus rubs the back of their neck, a pink falling over his cheeks and tinting his ears.
“Well, I was hoping to avoid taking them to her…”
Welt doesn’t react, as if already knowing the answer. “Well,” his amber eyes meet yours. “What do you say to staying on the Astral Express for the time being? Of course, we’ll have to check with the conductor to make sure that’s okay.”
Caelus nods, their eyes narrowing as they think. “Do you think Ms Himeko might have an idea of how to jog their memory?” Their body shifts towards you as do their eyes, “in any case, we should find Pompom first, that’s the conductor.”
You want to say you know exactly who Pompom is, but that would sound odd from what should be a stranger, wouldn’t it?
Speak of the devil, Pompom comes waddling their body over to your gaggle. They aren’t as small as the game made them seem, maybe four feet of smooth fluff, and a content face.
“Hi Trailblazer, hi Welt, hi… Hi.” They pause and look up into your face, their features contorting, before they accuse you. “You aren’t a passenger!”
“Oh.” You don’t really know how to respond to that. Aside from acknowledging the obvious, they haven’t given you anything worthwhile to say. Before the silence can become too suffocating Caelus comes to the rescue, saving you from the critical look of the conductor.
“About that!” They give the creature a charming smile, putting their body between yours and theirs. “I was hoping my new friend could stay on the express until they can remember where their home is.”
So that’s why you’re staying, well staying til you wake, maybe wake. Fuck, you need a minute, well maybe once it settles in and you realize that you can’t escape, and don’t know how or why you’re here. Oh, you hope this is just a sleep deprived, very immersive deep sleep.
“Hmm,” Pompom shoves past Caelus’ legs to size you up. Their large, animal eyes make you melt, and you offer them a shy, nervous smile. “We’re out of rooms, but,” they turn back to Caelus, “if you or another passenger are willing to share, Pompom guesses they can stay.”
“Thank you, Pompom,” your smile widens a bit more. “But, maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to say that. I don’t know if anyone would want to share a room with me.” A breathy, panicky laugh leaves you, “I am a stranger here, after all.”
Pompom gives you one last, long look before shuffling away back to their rounds of the train.
“Hm, well, I understand where you’re coming from. But,” Caelus frowns and their eyes darken, going downcast, nervously. “I feel oddly connected to you. There’s more than one reason I didn’t take you to Madam Herta. I was hoping you might be able to stay on the Express, at least for a bit. So I could get to know you, a bit.” As your expression remains impassive, they’re quick to continue, taking hold of both of your hands. Their hands are large and warm, engulfing yours earnestly. “Please don’t get the wrong idea. I am trying to help you, however I can. Which is why I want to extend an invitation for you to stay with me, in my room.”
“Thank you, Caelus.” Warmth fills both your heart and face, both from the words and their touch alike. “I know you’re trying to help me, I truly appreciate it.”
They’re being so genuine, it makes you want to cry. How can you tell them this is all a dream, your dream at that. They aren’t even real, for crying out loud! The way they treat you makes you never want to wake up, stay so they can care for you, spend time with you. Would it be selfish to want to stay, to never leave, what would happen to your life if you never woke up, never left this dream (game, whatever it is now)?
You have the sudden urge to harm yourself, just for the sake of proving if this reality is just a dream or if some spatial temporal nonsense happened for you to get sucked into your PC’s game, turned real world.
The time you spend worrying cuts short when March 7th’s cheerful voice calls into the express. You hadn’t even noticed the metal screaming of the door as it was pried open.
“Caelus~ Help me convince Dan Heng to let us go back to the Xianzhou Luofu for some Berrypheasant Skewers and Immortal’s Delight- oh!” She’s spotted you. Her face lights up, an odd reaction, you think, upon seeing a stranger in what is essentially her home. “Hi there!”
“Hi,” you greet meekly, not used to being around someone so high energy. Not that you don’t like it, on the contrary she’s a very gregarious person, and the energy she brings makes you feel content.
“Caelus didn’t tell me they brought a guest!” March giggles. “It’s nice to see you, have we met before? I’d hate to think I’d forgotten your face.”
“No, you haven’t met me before.” It’s not a lie, you craft your words carefully. You know her though, very well, at that.
“Oh, well you can call me March 7th! What’s your name?” She fully enters the compartment now, the heavy train door slamming loudly behind her. She’s really pretty and cute in person, you wish that your mind could come up with any better words to describe her, but your mouth feels more than a little dry as she gets closer to you. You tell her, words sounding like mush, but she smiles and repeats it back to you, giving it a compliment.
She makes your heart stutter, and you smile at her, a little dumbly. Luckily Caelus seems sympathetic to your plight (going dumb at the sight of a pretty girl) and takes over explaining why you’re here.
“Memory loss, huh?” March pulls a sympathetic face. “I can relate. Well, you seem like a lovely person, and a friend of Caelus is a friend of mine, so my door is always open if you need to talk.”
Your deceit feels harsh, because you don’t have memory loss. Now March might try to bond over this perceived shared trauma, one that you don’t have…
March pats your shoulder in an attempt to soothe, a rush of her scent (solidifying this is more than a dream) fills your nose, fresh, clean, and sweet.
“Thank you, March, I appreciate it.”
“Anything for a friend!” March turns to Caelus, who lets your hands go as March engages them in a conversation. “Now, Caelus, help me convince Dan Heng to vote for Xianzhou Luofu on this week’s stop! I really want some of the local food.” She exaggerates the ‘really’ dramatically, making her eyes wider; the epitome of puppy dog style begging.
“Ah,” Caelus turns their head away, squeezing their eyes shut. “I already was planning on voting for Jarilo VI, and I’m pretty sure Dan Heng is dead set on his vote for another week at the space station.”
March sighs in disappointment, eyeing Welt as her next target before, “Wait! You’re officially a passenger now!” She is talking to you, “won’t you please vote for the Xianzhou Luofu as this week’s destination?”
The Xianzhou Luofu, you think about it. They don’t know that you know the place like the back of your hand, but it’s not like you have anything against the place. In fact, you’d rather not face the harsh cold of Jarilo VI so new to this world.
Oh, you shouldn’t have thought about that right now, the fact you’re stuck here for who knows how long, and you’re passively deceiving everyone you meet. Your knees feel a bit weak, but you manage to force an agreeable response to March.
“I’m feeling a bit tired, Caelus,” you grab their forearm to steady, “could I have a moment to lay down?”
“Oh shit,” they steady you, leading you to the couch, and helping you lay diagonally. Your eyes slip closed. Not caring about what you make yourself look like, you turn your face into the back cushion, tightening the harshness of how tight your eyes are closed.
Are you really stuck here? Is this more than a dream? Without fully realizing it, you drag your blunt nails over the length of your forearm. A soft, trembling gasp disguises the hiss of pain you make. Not a dream.
Fuck, not a dream.
You push your face deeper into the cushion, inhaling the scent of dust and fabric. The sensory input makes you even more certain this isn’t a dream. How do you go back to your world? Are you a missing person yet? What harm will come if you stay here, both to this world and your world? Do you tell them the truth?
How earth-shattering would it be to find out that your whole life is nothing but code? You are but a character built to entertain millions, any sense of individuality and personhood would surely fade. You can’t do that to them, can you?
But maybe it would help you get back to where you belong…
It hits you then, Welt Yang. Well, he doesn’t hit you. He’s still reading his book on the couch opposite to you. You’re no lore expert on any Honkai game except Star Rail, but he’s from like, another world as well, or something like that, right? Sure that world is another video game, probably, but alternate dimensions are alternate dimensions, right?
How would that conversation start? Hey Mr Yang, you’re a video game character and I’m from a different world, teehee can you help me figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now? Would he even believe you? Would you even believe you?
A warm hand rubs over your upper back, along your shoulder blades and vertebrae. Caelus, your heart stutters, a funny thing, at how you already know how much you’ll miss them.
“Do you want to use one of my Life Transmitters or a Healing Spray?” They offer their voice, kind and calm. “Or would something like Comfort Food be more to your taste right now?”
You move your face out of the cushion, “thank you, Caelus, you’re too kind. I’ll be okay, just… thinking.” Thinking of how this shouldn’t be real, how you’re too good to be real.
“Of course, let me know if you need anything. Anything at all, no matter how small.”
Caelus eventually left with March to pester Dan Heng, leaving you to revel in your confusing thoughts. After a few more minutes of lying on the couch, you steel yourself to face Welt Yang.
Thinking of his face is enough to make your hands clam up. Will he send you away and dismiss it as insane ramblings of nervous breakdown from one of Miss Herta’s overworked employees? He’ll believe you, won’t he? Surely a man of his caliber and experience can spot when someone is telling the truth, no matter how fantastical?
Pushing yourself up, you fight the tired and nerves that cling to you, and stand on unsteady legs. Welt looks up as you approach, folding the ear of the page he’s on and snapping the book shut.
“Uhm, Mr Yang, could we maybe talk in private?” Your voice sounds warbled, but if it’s more than a trick of your ears Mr Yang doesn’t let you know, instead offering you a reassuring smile and nodding.
“I will lead you to my room. No one will disrupt us there.” You’re glad he hasn’t questioned your intentions. Does he suspect you already and was unwilling to call you out openly?
Welt leads you down the sleeping cart aisle, maintaining a respectful distance from you the whole while.
He uses the handle of his cane to tap on his door handle, a jolt of pink-red magic and a click of the door’s locking mechanism and you are presented with your chance to talk to Welt Yang privately.
Welt’s eyes meet yours expectantly. You gulp.
“So. On a scale of one to one hundred how well would you react to me telling you this is a video game?” Yeah, and if this goes poorly you can pretend this was all a joke–!
Welt's previously curious harden into something more serious. “What?”
Ah fuck, nope, nevermind. “Hahaha.” It’s fake and painfully obvious to you both. “Sorry to bother you Mr Yang, I will see myself out.”
“No.” Welt positions himself between you and the exit. “Tell me.”
It’s hard not to spill the beans when those dark amber eyes bore into your very soul. And, you do.
You tell him how you got sucked through your PC and woke up in what should be simply pixels on your monitor. You tell him how you don’t know what to do and how he’s one of the only characters, well, you correct yourself, people, you thought might know how to help you.
Welt’s face is stoic and you purse your lips as your nerve filled ramble comes to an end. “How… odd.”
You’re sure it must be. Especially for him, learning he’s a game franchise’s tool, everything he’s done was all written out and predetermined by forces he has no hope to control.
Welt sits on the edge of his bed, cane used to steady himself. “I need a moment, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, I’m the interloper here.” You kneel in front of him, trying to comfort the man in any way you can. After a brief hesitation you cover his hand with your own. Perhaps physical contact will bring some sense of consolation.
His brows are furrowed, but your touch lesses it minutely.
“Do you… want to go back?”
It’s a fair question, but you aren’t sure of the answer yourself. Because on one hand, being in this fantasy world with characters you like that treat you nicely is quite literally a dream come true, but on the other hand you have a life. Not anything important, you’re just a person. A person with friends and family and a job that all needs you.
You cannot be sure of how much time will pass before you can leave this world, universe, whatever. Is this even your real body? Is there an empty vessel sitting in your desk chair that will wither and decay while you explore the wide world of Honkai Star Rail? You are led to believe this is your real body due to the sensations that an artificial vessel wouldn’t feel.
But.
There are your favorite characters and they’re so so nice. So far.
Your inner turmoil must be showing on your face because Welt squeezes your hand, running his thumb over the back of your palm.
“I suppose a better question might be: are you comfortable staying in this world for a prolonged period of time?”
This time the answer comes easier, “yes.”
“That certainly makes things easier,” Welt relents.
“Do we tell anyone?” The question brings on another bout of quiet. You wet your lips, nerves still simmering from the confession you made.
“I think it would be best to keep it among the, how shall I phrase it, main characters?” Welt winces. “Who would they be? Me, if you know enough to confide in me, and who else?”
“Well, I don’t think you, the Express, like all the main characters, but,” you sigh, beginning to count off who you can think of. “Caelus, March, Dan Heng, you, Himeko, Sampo, Gepard, Serval, Bronya, Seele, Natasha, Luka, Blade, Kafka, Silver Wolf, Herta; maybe, Asta, Arlan, Jing Yuan, Yanqing, Jinglui, Loucha… There might be more, but they seem to be the most lore relevant and repetitive so far.”
“Yes, I imagine some conflict might crop up with that roster…” Welt thinks. The way his brow furrows and his legs spread (manspreading… drool) is subtly attractive.
Ah, the Stellaron Hunters. You can and will admit you want to see Blade and Kafka badly, but if it could result in… tension, would it be worth it in the long run? Just to satiate your thirst? They’re so imposing in the best way possible.
“Hm. Do you want to tell them?” Welt interrupts your little Kafka slash Blade slash you fantasy.
After a moment of mentally debating, you decide that, “yes, I do. All of them.”
“Very well.” Welt gives a reassuring smile, “I will support you in any path you may choose to take.” And if that didn’t make butterflies flutter all the way from the pit of your tummy up to your throat.
“If they were to ask; how am I going to prove myself? Is there something that can show I’m not from this world?” Sudden anxiety seizes you, will your favorite characters mock you? You’d die.
“There’s nothing to say they won’t believe you. You’ve convinced me after all.” It helps you stay calm, and you nod seriously. There’s another gap where neither of you speak.
“Who will we see first, do you know?”
“How about the whole Express has a meeting and we can decide from there, sound good?” Ah, that smile. A shot to the heart it is.
“Yes, thank you, Mr Yang.” Your face is hot when you say it, suddenly desperate to leave the room and cool yourself.
Oblivious to your sudden burst of attraction, Welt continues on. “Of course, always feel free to stop by my room. I’d like to extend an invitation as the others have, if you want to rest in my room, you’re welcome to.”
Rounding up the entire Astral Express doesn’t take as long as you expected it to. Himeko was in her room; and March, Caelus, and Dan Heng weren’t far from the loading deck; and Pompom is always on the Express.
“So.” You start, folding your hands together and looking at everyone around the table. They’re all watching you, and it’s really sort of scary, but you need to be brave. “I’m not from… here.”
Honestly they take the news well. Sure there were some questions, some you knew the answer to, others you are unsure of yourself.
“Is that why,” Caelus cuts themself off. “I feel drawn to you.”
“Drawn to me?” Your head tilts curiously, “could you expand on that?”
“I feel it too,” Dan Heng murmurs, eyeing Caelus. At this you lean back, furrowing your brows in thought.
“Oh?” March leans into Dan Heng’s seat. “I think I know what they’re talking about.”
“Something, emotionally, maybe, makes me want to be close with you,” Himeko speaks to you directly for the first time. “It’s like a tugging in my chest telling me to care about you.”
Ignoring the blatant rush of heat to your cheeks, Caelus expands on Himeko’s words. “Exactly. I can’t explain how or why, but I feel that you’re important, at least to me.”
Fuck, they’re going to make leaving so hard, won’t they? They can’t just say things like that.
“Oh.” Processing those words is hard.
Noting the way you’ve halted and your body language, March hovers a hand over your forearm, debating whether to touch you.
“Does that make you uncomfortable?” She asks, already sounding let down.
“No! No, not at all. It’s just.” You laugh, not out of humor or joy, but something nervous. “If you guys say things like that I’m not going to want to leave.”
“What if we don’t want you to leave?”
“I think that’s a conversation for another day, Caelus.” Welt steers the conversation back on track; what you really came to ask: “Where are we stopping first?”
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